INDIA 
ON  THE 
MARCH 


•HBMHBOTHBMMi 

S8Z 


Ctl 


ALDEN-H-CLARK 


UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 

Donated  in  memory  of 

John  W.    Snvder 

by 

His  Son  and  Daughter 


Ewing   Galloway 


THE  TAJ  MAHAL,  AGRA 


This  is  not  a  tomb  of  marble, — never,  never ! 

My  heart  cries  out  it  is  a  dome  of  heavenly  flowers. 

Those  flowers  that  blossom  on  the  trees  of  Paradise 

Have  shed  their  radiant  beauty  to  enshrine  Mumtaz. 
— From  a  Bengali  poem  by  Satish  Chandra  Ray, 
Translated  by  W.  W.  Pearson  and  C.  F.  Andrews. 


India  on  the  March 


By  Alden  H.  Clark 


MISSIONARY     EDUCATION  MOVEMENT 

OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  AND  CANADA 

NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BY 

MISSIONARY  EDUCATION  MOVEMENT  OF  THE 
UNITED  STATES  AMD  CANADA 


PEIXTED    IK    THE    HUTTED    STATES    OF   AMERICA 


TO   THE  THREE   CHILDREN 

WHO  HAVE  SHARED  IN  THE  EXPERIENCES 

AND  HELPED  IN   THE   WRITING  OF  THIS   BOOK 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.   THE  WONDERLAND 1 

II.   THE  MEETING  GROUND  OF  EAST  AND  WEST  25 

III.  A  VILLAGE  WRESTLER 51 

IV.  OUT  OF  THE  MIRE 75 

V.   BORN  TO  BE  ROBBERS 93 

VI.    SCOUTING  IN  INDIA 115 

VII.    THOSE  POOR  MISSIONARIES     ....  135 

VIII.    CHRISTIANS  WHO  COUNT  155 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING    PAGE 


The  Taj  Mahal       .        .     Frontispiece 

Mission  college   students       .        .        .        .        .36 

A  Maratha  trooper 68 

Training  in  agriculture 84 

A  Criminal  Tribes  Settlement  elementary  school  100 

Kev.  J.  K.  Chitambar 116 

Dr.  Anna  S.  Kugler 148 

Kambhau's  "adopted  child" 164 


NOTE  ON  THE  PRONUNCIATION  OF 
INDIAN  WORDS 

As  a  general  rule  it  may  be  said  that  in  the  Indian 
languages  the  vowels  are  pronounced  in  the  Italian 
manner  rather  than  the  English :  i.  e.,  like  the  vowels  in 
do,  re,  mi,  fa  of  the  musical  scale.  There  is  a  short  6, 
which  is  often  found  at  the  close  of  Indian  words  and 
sometimes  elsewhere.  It  is  pronounced  like  the  a  in 
aboard.  Indian  languages  have  no  flat  a  as  in  at. 
The  u  is  pronounced  like  the  cm  in  soup.  Spellings 
have  been  used  which  give  as  nearly  as  possible  the 
English  equivalents  of  consonants.  Many  Indian  words 
have  an  aspirated  letter  which  appears  as  bh,  dh,  th,  etc. 
This  is  given  an  explosive  pronunciation  like  the  bh  in 
abhor.  In  the  case  of  important  Indian  words  in  the 
text  in  which  there  are  exceptions  to  these  rules,  a  foot- 
note shows  the  approximate  pronunciation.  Strong 
accent  upon  one  or  more  syllables  of  a  word  is  not  so 
common  in  the  Indian  languages  as  in  English.  Each 
syllable  is  given  very  nearly  the  same  weight  in  speak- 
ing the  word.  For  common  place  names,  a  pronouncing 
gazetteer  should  be  consulted. 


PREFACE 

As  a  high  school  boy  I  heard  a  vivid  account  of  the 
needs  of  mission  lands.  It  appealed  to  me  so  strongly 
that  I  decided  to  go  out  as  a  missionary  and  began  to 
try  to  fit  my  very  lively  and  not  over-pious  self  for 
the  great  life-work  which  I  had  dared  to  choose.  Later, 
my  courses  in  college  were  planned  with  this  in  mind. 
For  a  time  the  original  purpose  grew  weak,  but  a  fresh 
study  of  the  facts  with  a  college  chum  brought  it  back, 
stronger  than  ever. 

Real  missionary  life  and  work  in  India  proved  far 
more  interesting  and  more  significant  than  I  had  antici- 
pated. This  little  book  is  an  expression  of  my  enjoy- 
ment of  the  privilege  of  being  a  missionary.  It  is  an 
attempt  to  pass  on  to  others  something  of  the  attraction 
and  appeal  which  India  has  for  me.  If  it  leads  one 
strong,  earnest  American  to  answer  the  missionary  call, 
I  shall  be  well  repaid  for  writing  it. 

Perhaps  I  should  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  in 
two  chapters,  the  third  and  the  fifth,  I  have  used  the 
story  form  as  that  seems  the  most  effective  way  of  pre- 
senting the  situation.  "Appaji"  and  "Tevan"  are  not 
actual  persons,  but  they  represent  the  experiences  of 
many  from  India's  middle  classes  and  criminal  tribes. 

The  writing  of  this  book  has  been  made  pleasant  by 
the  ready  and  able  cooperation  of  Mr.  Franklin  D. 
Cogswell  of  the  Missionary  Education  Movement.  I 
owe  a  great  debt  also  to  Miss  Mabel  E.  Emerson  and 
Miss  Ruth  I.  Seabury,  both  experts  in  missionary  edu- 
cation, who  have  given  unstinted  advice  and  help  at 

ix 


X  PEEFACB 

every  stage  of  the  work.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  name 
here  the  books  which  I  have  used,  neither  can  I  men- 
tion the  many  letters  and  other  private  sources  which 
have  been  placed  at  my  disposal.  We  are  fortunate  in 
having  many  interesting  recent  books  about  India,  yet 
no  publication  on  modern  India  can  now  be  up  to  date. 
Before  the  print  is  dry  on  its  pages,  some  of  its  state- 
ments will  need  to  be  modified.  So  quickly  are  events 
marching  in  fast-changing  India ! 

National  feelings  and  prejudices  are  running  high 
in  the  Orient.  It  is  no  easy  task  to  which  India  calls 
us;  but  it  is  a  great  task — the  greatest  in  the  world. 
We  are  aiming  at  nothing  less  than  to  make  Christian 
brotherhood  the  dominating  principle  in  the  surging 
life  of  one  of  the  world's  greatest  peoples.  The  heart 
of  India  responds  with  wonderful  completeness  to  the 
appeal  of  Christ  when  His  appeal  really  reaches  her 
heart.  No  other  land  has  a  greater  contribution  to  make 
to  the  world  than  Christian  India.  And  to-day  India 
is  choosing  her  future  path.  Shall  it  be  one  of  turmoil 
and  chaos,  or  shall  it  be  one  of  development  and  world- 
wide helpfulness?  The  next  thirty  years  will  largely 
give  the  answer  to  this  question.  Never  before  did 
India  so  clearly  need  the  spirit  of  Christ.  Never  before 
was  her  missionary  appeal  to  America  so  great.  May 
we  rise  to  our  high  privelege  by  responding  to  this 
appeal ! 

ALDEN  H.  CLAEK. 

Boston,  1922. 


INDIA  ON  THE  MARCH 


"If  you've  'card  the  East  a-callin',  why,  you  won't  'eed 
nothin'  else." 

No!   you  won't  'eed  nothin'  else 
But  them  spicy  garlic  smells 
An'  the  sunshine  an'  the  palm  trees 
An*  the  tinkly  temple  bells! 

— Rudyard  Kipling 


The  Wonderland 

"THIS  is  India,  the  land  of  dreams  and  of  romance, 
of  fabulous  wealth,  of  fabulous  poverty,  of  splendor 
and  of  rags,  of  palaces  and  hovels,  of  tigers  and  ele- 
phants. Cradle  of  the  human  race,  birthplace  of  human 
speech;  mother  of  religion;  grandmother  of  history; 
great-grandmother  of  tradition.  The  land  of  a  hundred 
nations  and  of  a  hundred  tongues;  of  a  thousand  reli- 
gions and  of  three  million  gods,  and  she  worships  them 
all.  All  other  countries  in  religion  are  paupers ;  India 
is  the  only  millionaire.  The  one  sole  land  under  the 
sun  that  is  endowed  with  an  imperishable  interest  for 
all  men;  rich  and  poor,  bond  and  free;  alien  prince 
and  alien  peasant;  all  men  want  to  see  India,  and  hav- 
ing seen  it  once  even  by  a  glimpse,  would  not  give  up 
that  glimpse  for  all  the  rest  of  the  shows  of  the  earth 
combined." 

So  says  Mark  Twain  in  Following  ihe  Equator.1 
I  invite  you  to  come  with  me  and  see  for  yourselves 
this  wonderland  of  India.  Who  could  refuse  a  chance 
to  do  anything  so  fascinating?  There  is  always  room 
for  several  more  in  our  bungalows,  or  on  the  verandas, 
and  we  shall  be  delighted  to  see  you  and  show  you 
the  real  India — and  learn  from  you  the  latest  home 
styles  and  slang.  Heat  and  hardship?  Oh,  yes,  I 
suppose  so.  Have  you  ever  heard  of  anything  that 

i  Vol.  2,  Chap.  II.     Quoted  by  permission  of  Estate  of  Samuel 
L.  Clemens,  The  Mark  Twain  Company,  and  Harper  &  Brothers. 


2  INDIA   ON    THE    MABCH 

was  really  worth  doing  where  there  wasn't  a  certain 
amount  of  heat  and  hardship  to  be  endured  ? 

The  best  time  for  the  trip  is  during  the  "cold  season," 
say,  in  December  or  January.  Then,  if  "the  rains"  have 
not  failed,  the  river  valleys  and  great  upland  fields 
will  be  covered  with  waving  grain — millet  and  sor- 
ghum, wheat  and  rice  and  sugar-cane.  Then,  at  this 
time,  too,  her  climate  is  ideally  cool.  Yes,  cool !  Per- 
haps when  we  go  to  some  northern  hill  station  we  shall 
have  a  snow-storm — and  a  snowball  fight.  Even  down 
on  the  plains  you  may  some  day  find  a  little  ice  on 
the  water  in  the  early  morning.  So  bring  a  fairly  warm 
coat  along  with  you. 

I  advise  you  to  take  passage  from  Marseilles  to  Bom- 
bay in  one  of  the  boats  of  the  staid  old  Peninsu- 
lar and  Oriental  Company.  Second-class  will  be  all 
right  and  is  really  far  less  stiff  and  formal  than  first 
class.  You  will  find  plenty  of  English  captains  and 
majors  and  government  officials  "going  second"  with 
you  on  their  way  back  to  their  jobs.  There  will  be  a 
foretaste  of  what  is  to  come,  as  these  people  tell  you 
some  of  their  tiger  stories  and  as  you  talk  to  your 
very  courteous  Indian  fellow-passengers  or  when  the 
barefooted  Indian  table  steward,  imposing  in  his  great 
turban  and  white  robe,  brings  you,  with  silent  steps,  an 
Indian  curry. 

As  you  slowly  steam  into  Bombay's  mighty  harbor, 
you  will  take  in  the  tropical  beauties  of  islet  and  shore 
and  the  imposing  array  of  mountains  that  lie  back  of 
the  long,  narrow  island.  Yet  I  think  that  you  will 
look  with  keenest  interest  at  the  tall  buildings  and 
smoking  factory  chimneys  of  this  great  modern  city. 


THE    WONDERLAND  6 

We  shall  be  awaiting  you,  but  shall  not  expect  to  receive 
much  attention  when  you  first  come  ashore.  You  have 
seen  plenty  like  us  before,  while  all  around  you  on  the 
great  wharf,  some  shouting,  some  laughing,  some  moving 
with  stately  tread,  are  such  folk  as  you  have  never  seen. 

The  show  that  has  the  center  of  the  stage  at  first  is 
the  landing  of  a  native  prince  who  was  a  fellow-passen- 
ger of  yours.  He  is  a  Maharajah?  or  "great  king," 
and  holds  personal  sway  in  true  Oriental  style  over  a 
principality  as  big  as  New  England.  Soon  a  salute  of 
twenty-two  guns  in  his  honor  will  boom  out  from  the 
fort.  He  is  the  first  to  step  down  the  gang-plank  and 
is  greeted  by  a  group  of  European  officials,  some  in  ordi- 
nary civilian  costume,  but  one,  at  least — a  police  officer 
— in  pure  white,  standing  stiff  and  straight.  It  looks 
as  if  he  himself  must  have  been  starched  and  ironed 
right  in  the  suit  he  wears.  But  it  is  the  Maharajah's 
retainers,  drawn  up  to  receive  him,  who  attract  most  of 
your  attention.  With  their  strange  curved  swords  and 
their  gorgeous  gold-fringed  turbans,  they  are  like  a  pic- 
ture out  of  the  Arabian  Nights. 

However,  even  the  picturesque  costumes  and  ancient 
accoutrements  of  the  Maharajah's  men  cannot  hold  your 
eye  long  in  that  crowd.  A  group  of  men  and  women 
waving  to  a  passenger  who  is  about  to  come  ashore 
attract  your  attention  next.  Their  complexion  is  light 
and  their  features  are  regular.  Some  of  the  men  have 
on  long  black  coats  and  queer  stiff  hats  like  stovepipes 
which  have  been  chopped  off  on  a  slant.  The  women 
wear  beautiful  embroidered  silk  saris  3  or  flowing  dra- 
peries and  do  not  seem  at  all  troubled,  as  most  India 

2  Every  "a"  long.  3  Pronounce  "is"  like  "ees." 


4  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

women  would  be,  by  being  seen  in  the  jostling  crowd. 
They  are  Parsis — Persian  fire-worshippers  whose  an- 
cestors came  to  India  centuries  ago.  The  men  are  now 
for  the  most  part  successful  merchants  of  Bombay  and 
other  Indian  cities.  They  seem  three-quarters  Euro- 
pean, yet  they  are  very  much  at  home  in  India.  A 
fellow-passenger  has  told  you  that  this  particular  Parsi 
is  a  multimillionaire,  a  member  of  the  famous  Tata 
family  that  owns  the  greatest  steel  works  in  India  be- 
sides great  cotton  mills  and  many  other  enterprises. 

Look  at  these  two  rough,  muscular  fellows  with  dark 
faces  who  are  waiting  to  carry  the  heavy  boxes  which 
will  soon  be  raised  from  the  ship's  hold.  See  how  they 
are  pushing  and  hitting  and  shouting  and  laughing  at 
each  other  like  a  pair  of  great  overgrown  boys. 

That  man  with  the  long  white  robe  and  red  beard? 
He  is  a  Mohammedan  who  has  done  what  is  the  ambi- 
tion of  every  devout  Mohammedan  to  do.  He  has  made 
the  long  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  and  proudly  wears  his 
beard  stained  red  as  a  badge  of  his  accomplishment. 

But  we  must  fairly  carry  you  away  by  force.  We 
have  arranged  with  the  efficient  and  willing  agents  of 
Thomas  Cook  to  bring  up  your  trunks  and  have  hired 
for  ourselves  garis,  or  open  victorias.  In  time  we  start 
out  for  the  mission  compound  in  the  heart  of  the  In- 
dian city  where  ten  o'clock  "breakfast"  awaits  us.  The 
streets  are  full;  other  victorias  with  shouting  drivers 
and  poor,  thin  horses,  queer,  lurching,  two-wheeled  bul- 
lock carts,  heaped  high,  automobiles, — we  almost  feel 
at  home  when  we  see  how  many  of  them  are  flivvers, 
' — tram  cars,  and  a  stream  of  barefooted  brown  people. 

At  first  we  go  through  wide  streets  and  between  many- 


THE    WONDERLAND  O 

storied  buildings  which  are  almost  European  in  appear- 
ance. You  exclaim  with  surprise  when  we  come  out 
into  a  great  open  space  and  see  on  our  right  the  beauti- 
ful Victoria  Terminus,  the  principal  railroad  station  of 
Bombay,  and  one  of  the  largest  in  the  world.  Soon, 
however,  we  plunge  into  narrow  streets  lined  with  queer 
little  shops  piled  high  with  interesting  things.  The 
crowds  are  so  dense  that  we  have  to  drive  very  slowly 
to  avoid  running  over  someone.  How  striking  the. 
people  are  with  their  brilliantly  colored  costumes  and 
their  strange  speech !  Doubtless  before  we  reach  the 
mission  compound  we  shall  have  passed  people  who  are 
talking  every  one  of  India's  twelve  great  languages  as 
well  as  many  others  both  foreign  and  Indian. 

We  are  now  in  the  heart  of  the  Indian  city  in  one 
of  the  most  densely  peopled  areas  in  the  world,  and  it 
doesn't  seem  possible  that  we  have  been  only  a  short  time 
before  driving  down  a  wide  thoroughfare  between  great 
Western  buildings.  Yet  everywhere  we  see  automo- 
biles waiting  in  front  of  native  shops,  we  hear  grapho- 
phones  playing,  and  presently  we  pass  a  moving  picture 
palace.  We  are  having  a  taste  of  the  strange  mingling 
of  West  and  East  which  is  one  of  the  fascinations  and 
problems  of  modern  India. 

At  last  we  turn  in  at  a  gateway  and  find  ourselves* 
in  a  most  attractive  compound.  Eight  before  us  rises 
a  beautiful  church  building,  and  to  our  left  is  an  Indiam 
bungalow  with  ample  verandas  and  many  doors  and 
windows.  In  the  entrance  stands  a  little  group  of  our 
fellow-countrymen  who  have  gathered  to  give  you  the 
warmest  sort  of  welcome.  They  have  arranged  that 
we  shall  have  a  breakfast  to  celebrate  your  coming,  and 


6  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

soon  we  are  seated  around  a  long,  improvised  table 
in  the  airy  dining-room,  all  laughing  and  talking  to- 
gether. 

After  your  heavy  ocean  fare,  you  will  enjoy  the  meal. 
It  is  quite  like  an  American  breakfast,  with  the  addi- 
tion of  Bombay  plantains,  or  sweet,  juicy  bananas,  and 
loose-skinned  oranges,  picked  the  day  before.  There 
will  be  cereal  and  eggs  and  doughnuts — the  pride  of 
the  cook — and  other  good  things.  The  silent-footed 
table-boy  seems  to  know  what  you  want  as  soon  as  you 
do  yourself  and  passes  your  plate  for  a  second  helping. 

After  breakfast  we  shall  have  a  council  of  war.  This 
trip  of  ours  isn't  to  be  of  the  ordinary  tourist  kind, 
with  a  hop,  skip,  and  a  jump  between  "the  sights." 
We've  invited  you  because  we  want  you  to  know  the 
people  of  India  and  to  respect  and  like  them,  as  we  are 
sure  you  will  if  you  only  know  them.  We  are  going 
to  take  you  right  out  for  a  real  visit  with  the  village 
people  of  India.  We  are  also  going  to  introduce  you  to 
a  few  of  India's  political  leaders  and  British  adminis- 
trators and  give  you  an  opportunity  to  know  some  of 
our  fellow-missionaries  and  Indian  Christians.  But 
you  really  must  have  a  chance  for  at  least  a  glimpse  of 
the  wonderful  show  places  of  India — no  trip  in  India 
would  be  complete  without  that — and  we  have  only  a 
few  short  weeks  for  everything!  Somehow,  we  must 
t>egin  by  taking  a  lightning  trip  all  over  India.  Then 
'we'll  be  ready  to  spend  the  rest  of  our  time  in  making 
friends  with  the  people. 

Would  you  like  to  try  a  truly  Indian  plan  ?  In  my 
own  city  of  Ahmednagar  there  lives  a  Hindu  holy  man 
who,  by  his  long  meditation  and  his  austerities,  has 


THE    WONDERLAND  7 

gained  miraculous  power,  at  least  that  is  what  people 
think.  He  was  seen  in  Ahmednagar  on  a  certain  day, 
and  on  that  same  day  friends  say  that  they  met  him  in 
the  holy  city  of  Benares,  one  thousand  miles  away.  It  is 
their  belief  that  his  mind  had  gained  such  complete 
control  over  his  body  that  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  repeat 
the  proper  mantra*  or  sacred  verse  of  magic  power,  to 
think  himself  in  Benares  and  there  he  was.  Why 
shouldn't  we  use  this  method  of  locomotion  since  we  too 
are  in  this  mystic  land  of  India  ?  While  I  repeat  the 
mantra  of  the  Ahmednagar  holy  man,  think  with  all 
your  might,  "Khyber  Pass." 

We  find  ourselves  twelve  hundred  miles  north  of 
Bombay  and  six  thousand  feet  above  sea  level.  Below 
us  is  a  narrow  cliff-lined  pass  which  is  the  only  way 
by  which  any  large  company  can  go  through  the  mighty 
Himalayan  barrier  which,  for  eighteen  hundred  miles, 
guards  India  on  the  north.  All  about  us  is  a  wild  coun- 
try of  piled  up  mountains,  but  in  front  and  far  below 
we  can  barely  see  from  our  perch  the  great  green  plain 
of  North  India. 

It  was  through  this  pass  that  our  distant  Aryan 
cousins  entered  India  over  three  thousand  years  ago. 
Yes,  the  people  of  India  are  really  distant  relatives  of 
ours.  They  left  the  high  tableland  of  Central  Asia 
and  journeyed  south  to  India  about  the  same  time  that 
other  near-by  Aryan  tribes  began  their  journey  toward 
Europe,  there  to  become  the  ancestors  of  many  of  the 
European  peoples.  Even  today  there  are  several  old 
Aryan  words  used  in  India  which  are  nearly  the 

*  Mun-tra. 


8  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

same  in  sound  and  meaning  as  words  which  we  use  in 
English. 

As  you  stand  above  this  wild  defile,  can  you  not  pic- 
ture those  early  invaders,  keen  of  eye,  strong  of  body, 
fearless  and  free  of  bearing,  with  their  bows  on  their 
backs,  driving  their  herds  before  them  through  the  Pass  ? 
They  are  looking  for  better  homes,  just  as  the  Vir- 
ginians of  colonial  days  were  when  they  went  through 
the  mountain  passes  of  the  Appalachians  on  their  way 
to  the  blue  grass  country  of  Kentucky.  When  some  ven- 
turesome Aryan  boy  climbed  our  hill  and  for  the  first 
time  looked  down  on  the  rich  land  of  rivers  and  mead- 
ows and  forests  that  was  before  him,  can  you  not  im- 
agine his  shout  of  triumph  as  he  dashed  down  to  tell 
the  news  to  those  in  the  pass  ? 

These  bold  Aryan  invaders  easily  drove  before  them 
the  dark-skinned  people  whom  they  found  in  their 
path,  and  soon  their  civilization  became  the  dominating 
civilization  of  India.  Long  afterwards  successive  waves 
of  Mohammedan  invaders  came  surging  through  this 
same  great  Pass  and  became  masters  of  the  Indian 
plain.  "Now  it  is  securely  guarded  by  the  last  invaders 
of  India  who  came,  not  over  the  mountains,  but  by  the 
sea.  "We  can  see  about  us  some  signs  of  the  vigilance 
with  which  the  "Khyber  Kifles,"  who  are  Indian  troops 
under  British  officers,  are  now  watching  over  this  pass- 
age way  to  Central  Asia.  For  still  today,  as  in  the 
time  of  the  Aryans,  the  fierce  people  to  the  north  cast 
longing  eyes  on  the  rich  plains  of  India.  If  the  strong 
hand  of  British  rule  were  removed,  it  would  not  be 
long  before  armies  of  invaders  were  again  marching 
through  the  Khyber  Pass. 


THE    WONDERLAND  & 

But  we  must  not  linger  here  too  long.  Shut  your 
eyes  and,  while  I  again  repeat  our  magic  mantra,  think 
"Darjeeliiig." 

We  have  once  more  leaped  over  nearly  twelve  hun- 
dred miles,  this  time  to  the  southeast,  right  along  the 
mighty  mountain  barrier  of  the  Himalayas.  As  we 
open  our  eyes,  we  shall  draw  in  our  breath  in  absolute 
wonder.  After  a  time,  a  quiet  exclamation  of  awe  may 
come  from  the  lips  of  some  of  us.  We  are  on  Tiger 
Hill  on  a  clear  day,  and  we  are  looking  at  one  of  the 
very  grandest  sights  in  the  world.  Have  you  ever  been 
in  the  Canadian  Rockies  or  the  Alps  or  in  any  place 
where  you  have  seen  great  snow-clad  mountains  ?  If 
you  have,  you  can  dimly  picture  to  yourself  the  won- 
der of  this  scene.  To  the  left,  one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  away,  we  can  clearly  see  Mt.  Everest,  the  highest 
mountain  in  the  world,  while  right  before  us  rises  its 
mighty  twin,  itself  28,156  feet  high,  Kinchenjanga. 
The  guide-book  says  that  it  is  forty-five  miles  away,  but 
as  it  rises  before  us  in  the  clear  air,  we  cannot  be- 
lieve that  it  is  more  than  five  miles  distant.  "The  eye 
looks  over  the  lofty  hills  and  across  a  vast  chasm  to  the 
line  of  perpetual  snow,  about  17,000  feet  high,  on  the 
side  of  the  stupendous  Kinchenjanga.  Above  that  rises 
a  glittering  white  wall,  and  then  it  seems  as  if  the  sky 
were  rent,  and  the  view  is  closed  by  enormous  masses 
of  bare  rock."  The  longer  you  look  at  these  mighty 
mountains,  the  more  will  their  grandeur  and  their  won- 
der impress  you,  and  as  we  turn  away,  perhaps  you 
will  feel  like  saying  with  the  great  poet  when  he 
thought  of  another  of  nature's  wonders,  "What  is  man, 
that  thou  art  mindful  of  him  ?" 


10  INDIA    ON    THE    MAKCH 

But  let  us  be  off  again  on  our  mystic  journey.  This 
time  it  is  a  short  trip — only  three  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  southwest.  We  have  come  to  the  very  heart  of 
the  Ganges  plain,  with  its  many  compact  little  gray  vil- 
lages and  with  ancient  cities  here  and  there  on  the 
river-bank.  No  "jungle"  here,  only  flat  unfenced  fields 
extending  from  the  Bay  of  Bengal  on  the  east  way  up 
the  Ganges  to  the  place  where  it  pours  out  of  the  Hima- 
layas and  thence  to  the  southwest,  down  the  Indus  to 
the  Indian  Ocean,  a  great,  flat,  curving  belt,  eighteen 
hundred  miles  long.  One  hundred  and  seventy-five  mil- 
lion people  live  on  this  great  plain,  many  more  than 
there  are  in  the  United  States  and  Canada,  with  Mexico 
and  Central  America  thrown  in.  It  is  the  countless 
little  streams  and  the  mighty  rivers  pouring  down  from 
the  Himalayan  snows  which  bring  life  to  this  great 
plain.  No  wonder  the  people  worship  "Mother  Ganga" 
and  think  of  the  Himalayas  as  the  home  of  the  gods. 

You  will  be  surprised  to  see  that  the  place  in  which 
we  find  ourselves  is  nothing  but  an  ancient  ruin.  It  is 
Sarnath,  four  miles  from  Benares,  and  the  reason  we 
are  here  is  that  it  is  one  of  the  famous  places  where 
India's  greatest  religious  teacher,  Gautama  Buddha, 
first  proclaimed  his  message.  In  front  of  us  is  the  de- 
scendant of  the  very  Bo  tree  under  which  he  sat  as  he 
taught. 

Gautama  was  a  young  Indian  prince  of  Aryan  blood, 
brought  up  in  luxury.  The  accounts  speak  of  his  great 
skill  and  strength.  Indeed,  we  are  told  that  he  won 
his  beautiful  wife,  Maya,  by  his  prowess  in  archery 
and  in  other  sports.  But  he  was  turned  from  his  care- 
less life  by  seeing  sights  of  great  suffering  in  his  father's 


THE    WONDERLAND  11 

city.  He  could  no  longer  bear  to  go  on  in  his  selfish 
enjoyment  while  others  were  in  such  suffering,  and  came 
to  feel  that  he  himself  must  find  the  key  to  life's  hard 
problem.  So  on  the  very  night  when  his  first  child 
was  born,  he  left  home  and  friends  and  went  off  into 
the  forest  to  think  through  the  mysteries  of  life  and 
death  and  to  try  to  find  some  way  to  bring  hope  to 
suffering  people.  For  years  he  lived  in  the  forest,  some- 
times fasting  until  he  was  little  more  than  a  skeleton 
and  enduring  all  sorts  of  austerities,  but  in  all  this  he 
found  no  message  of  hope  for  the  world.  At  last,  when 
he  was  in  despair,  light  seemed  to  come  to  him.  All  at 
once  he  felt  that  he  had  found  the  true  secret  of  life, 
and  he  became  "Buddha" — the  Enlightened. 

The  Aryans  of  Gautama's  day  had  lost  much  of  their 
former  spontaneous  joy  of  life.  There  was  constant 
quarreling  between  the  tribes  and  much  suffering  ex- 
isted among  them.  They  were  still,  as  they  had  always 
been,  deeply  religious.  But  the  Brahmans,  who  were 
the  priests  and  religious  teachers,  had  squeezed  most 
of  the  happiness  out  of  their  religion  and  had  left  it  a 
dry  routine  of  elaborate  ceremonies,  just  as  the  Jewish 
Pharisees  and  priests  had  done  in  the  time  of  Jesus. 
In  Old  Testament  times  the  prophets  denounced  all  the 
elaborate  sacrifices  and  ceremonies  and  told  the  Chil- 
dren of  Israel  that  what  God  wanted  was  the  sacrifice 
of  clean  lives.  Gautama  was  a  great  prophet  who  called 
the  people  from  a  religion  of  external  forms  to  one  of 
real  life.  He  taught  them  that  priestly  ceremonies 
would  not  meet  their  need.  TVTiat  they  must  do  was  to 
give  up  their  passions  and  selfish  ambitions  and  by  right 
thinking  and  right  action  free  themselves  from  all  de- 


12  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

sire  of  every  sort.  By  getting  rid  of  all  desire,  they 
would  conquer  sorrow  and  suffering.  In  this  way, 
Gautama  proclaimed,  they  would  finally  free  themselves 
from  the  great  "wheel  of  life." 

His  teaching  contained  no  vital  message  about  God, 
and  the  goal  to  which  he  invited  his  hearers  was  "Nir- 
vana"— the  absence  of  conscious  life.  But  he  himself 
was  so  attractive  a  man,  he  led  such  a  beautiful  life,  and 
preached  with  such  power  that  many  followed  his  "gos- 
pel." Despite  its  deficiencies,  the  religion  of  Gautama 
was  far  better  than  the  dry  ritual  of  the  priests. 

Here  among  the  ruins  of  Sarnath  you  may  see  a 
column  covered  with  the  remarkable  chiseled  edicts  of 
Gautama's  most  powerful  follower,  the  great  Asoka, 
Emperor  of  a  large  part  of  India.  It  was  in  remorse 
at  the  terrible  bloodshed  and  suffering  of  a  great  victory 
he  had  just  won  that  Asoka  was  converted  to  Buddhism. 
He  was  equally  great  as  an  emperor  and  as  a  disciple 
and  stands  out  as  one  of  the  most  attractive  rulers  of 
history.  In  many  ways  he  was  like  our  own  Alfred  the 
Great,  but  his  empire  was  many  times  greater  than 
that  of  Alfred.  In  Asoka's  day  Buddhism  became  a 
mighty  missionary  religion,  sending  its  messengers  to 
Tibet,  Burma,  and  China  whence  they  later  went  to 
Japan.  In  this  way  Gautama  Buddha,  the  simple  re- 
ligious teacher,  became  the  greatest  figure  in  Asia,  and 
at  the  present  time  five  hundred  million  people  are 
partially  or  wholly  his  followers. 

Yet  how  unattractive  his  message  seems  to  us  today. 
Here  were  his  last  words,  spoken  when  he  was  over 
eighty  years  old  to  a  group  of  his  closest  disciples: 
"Behold  now,  brethren,  this  is  my  exhortation  to  you. 


THE    WONDERLAND  13 

Decay  is  inherent  in  all  things.     Work  out,  therefore, 
your  emancipation  with  diligence." 

If  only  this  great-hearted  teacher  could  have  known 
Christ  and  learned  from  Him,  he  would  not  have  talked 
so  much  of  "decay"  and  "freedom  from  desire,"  but  he 
would  have  called  people  to  the  joy  of  service  to  God 
and  men.  Really  it  is  no  wonder  that  in  the  end  India 
turned  from  Buddha's  cheerless  teaching  hack  to  Hin- 
duism. There,  at  least,  was  a  god — indeed  myriads  of 
gods  to  be  worshipped. 

Only  four  miles  from  these  quiet  ruins  is  the  proof 
of  Buddha's  failure  to  meet  the  deepest  needs  of  men's 
hearts.  There  lies  the  great  city  of  Benares  which  has 
been  India's  religious  capital — its  Mecca — since  his- 
tory began.  Benares  is  filled  with  temples  and  shrines 
and  idols.  Here  we  find  ourselves  in  a  swirl  of  men 
and  women  bent  on  worship.  Through  the  dark,  nar- 
row, crooked,  crowded  streets  and  many  temples,  with 
their  slimy  tanks  of  holy  water,  a  million  pilgrims  pass 
every  year.  Here  are  holy  men  lying  on  beds  of  spikes, 
and  others  with  rigid  upraised  arms  which  have  been 
kept  so  long  in  this  position  that  they  have  lost  all  power 
of  movement.  Hindu  widows  with  shaved  heads  and 
hopeless  faces  hurry  by  in  the  crowd.  Read  what 
Macaulay  says  about  Benares,  and  I  am  sure  you  will 
feel  that  it  applies  to  what  you  are  seeing  today.  "The 
traveller  could  scarcely  make  his  way  through  the  press 
of  holy  mendicants  and  not  less  holy  bulls.  The  broad 
and  stately  flights  of  steps  which  descended  from  these 
swarming  haunts  to  the  bathing-places  along  the  Ganges 
were  worn  every  day  by  the  footsteps  of  an  innumerable 


14  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

multitude  of  worshippers.  The  schools  and  temples 
drew  crowds  of  pious  Hindus  from  every  province  where 
the  Brahmanical  faith  was  known.  Hundreds  of  de- 
votees came  hither  every  month  to  die,  for  it  was  be- 
lieved that  a  peculiarly  happy  fate  awaited  the  man 
who  should  pass  from  the  sacred  city  into  the  sacred 
river."  On  the  river-bank  are  the  burning  funeral 
pyres,  the  ashes  of  which  will  soon  be  thrown  to  "If  other 
Ganges." 

Let  us  walk  along  beside  this  band  of  villagers 
who  are  coming  with  their  banners  and  their  gourds 
to  be  filled  with  Ganges  water,  and  talk  with  them. 
Where  did  they  come  from?  "From  a  village  near 
Bijawar,  eight  days'  journey  away."  Had  they  walked 
all  the  way  ?  "Yes."  Why  did  they  come  ?  "To  bathe 
in  Mother  Ganges  and  to  have  a  sight  of  God  in 
the  temple.  What  else?"  We  look  over  the  group 
with  a  new  interest  and  respect.  Ignorant  they  clearly 
are,  but  they  have  revealed  in  this  simple  answer  a 
hunger  to  feel  themselves  near  to  God  which  was  great 
enough  to  induce  them  to  endure  the  hardships  of  that 
long  tramp  and  to  spend  their  meager  savings  for  the 
journey.  How  many  in  Christian  America  would  give 
such  proof  that  their  religion  meant  something  to  them  ? 
Doubtless  other  motives  entered  in.  This  pilgrimage  is 
a  way  of  finding  change  from  the  monotony  of  village 
life.  It  gives  something  of  the  excitement  of  a  country 
fair.  Yet  underneath  all  else  is  a  consciousness  of  the 
need  for  God — which  is  India's  great  gift  to  our  busy 
Western  world. 

When  our  eyes  are  tired  with  the  bewildering  sights 
of  Benares,  we  will  come  aside  out  of  the  surging 


THE    WONDERLAND  15 

crowd  and  again  try  the  power  of  our  spell.  "Agra"  is 
our  next  goal. 

I  almost  doubt  the  potency  of  any  psychic  power 
to  prevent  our  turning  a  little  further  north  to  go  to 
imperial  Delhi.  Delhi  is  the  agelong  political  center 
of  India,  with  ruins  of  many  a  famous  city  of  bygone 
days  surrounding  it  and  with  the  wonderful  buildings 
of  the  Mohammedan  Mogul  emperors  and  of  the  rising 
new  British  capital  making  it  one  of  the  show  cities 
of  the  world.  Yet  Agra  is  our  choice  because  here  we 
are  in  closer  touch  than  at  Delhi  with  Akbar,  greatest 
of  the  great  Moguls,  and  one  of  the  great  rulers  of 
history,  and  here  is  the  Taj  Mahal,  which  people  call 
the  most  beautiful  building  in  the  world. 

The  story  of  Akbar's  boyhood  is  a  wild  tale  of  ad- 
venture. He  was  born  in  the  camp  of  Humayun,  his 
father,  who  was  fleeing  from  India  for  his  life  after  a 
complete  defeat.  Akbar  was  a  very  little  lad  when  he 
came  marching  back  into  India  with  the  once  more  vic- 
torious Humayun.  When  he  was  only  thirteen,  the 
news  of  his  father's  death  found  him  off  on  an  expedi- 
tion with  the  army.  In  a  few  weeks  he  had  been  pro- 
claimed emperor  and  had  accompanied  his  army  in  a 
victorious  campaign  against  his  most  dangerous  rival. 
That  was  a  little  before  Queen  Elizabeth  began  her 
long  reign  in  England,  and  Akbar's  reign  outlasted  even 
hers. 

Eight  before  you  is  the  wall  of  the  great  Agra  fort 
over  the  battlements  of  which  young  Akbar,  single 
handed,  flung  the  man  who  had  just  murdered  his  prime 
minister.  Until  that  time  he  had  been  more  interested 
in  sport  than  in  his  empire.  Indeed  he  was  called  the 


16  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

best  polo  player  of  his  time.  But  from  that  day  on  for 
forty-three  years  he  reigned  with  such  wisdom  and 
ability  that  much  of  his  work  remains  as  the  basis  of 
the  Indian  Empire  of  today.  He  began,  a  child-ruler 
over  a  very  uncertain  kingdom.  When  he  died,  he  was 
perhaps  the  greatest  and  richest  ruler  in  the  world,  with 
most  of  the  vast  area  of  India  as  well  as  Afghanistan 
and  Baluchistan  owning  his  sway. 

He  was  generous  to  beaten  enemies  and  tolerant  to 
followers  of  other  faiths.  He  was  nominally  a  Moham- 
medan, yet  he  was  interested  in  every  religion.  There 
is  a  tradition  that  one  of  his  wives  was  a  Christian. 
In  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  himself  was  not  a  very  loyal 
Mohammedan,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Akbar's  great 
reign  helped  in  the  spread  of  the  religion  of  the  Arabian 
prophet.  There  are  today  over  sixty-five  million  Mo- 
hammedans in  India — by  far  the  greatest  number  to 
be  found  in  any  country  in  the  world. 

If  Akbar  was  the  David  of  the  Mogul  Empire,  Shah 
Jehan  was  its  Solomon,  and  we  are  now  to  see  the  mas- 
terpiece of  this  great  builder.  Whatever  else  we  hurry 
over,  we  are  going  to  take  enough  time  to  study  the  Taj 
Mahal.  We  shall  see  its  glistening  dome  through  the 
green  trees  of  its  garden,  and  then  we  shall  take  a 
boat  and  see  it  from  across  the  stately  Jumna  River, 
with  the  fine  red  sandstone  buildings  on  either  side  set- 
ting it  off,  the  whole  reflected  in  the  still  waters  of  the 
river.  We  shall  see  it  in  the  full  blaze  of  afternoon 
and  again  as  sunset  lights  its  graceful  towers  and,  most 
beautiful  of  all,  as  the  full  moon  softens  its  white 
marble  into  ivory  and  it  rises  before  us  a  veritable  crea- 
tion of  fairyland. 


THE    WONDERLAND  17 

Of  course  we  shall  go  inside  and  look  at  the  beauti- 
ful designs  of  precious  stones  inlaid  in  the  marble  and 
the  wonderful  trelliswork  screens  of  white  marble  that 
surround  the  tombs.  We  shall  feel  "the  chastened 
beauty  of  that  central  chamber"  which  "no  words  can 
express."  Indeed,  no  words  can  express  the  impression 
of  beauty  made  by  the  Taj.  Such  a  building  could 
have  been  built  only  as  an  expression  of  some  great  and 
beautiful  ideal.  And  so  it  was. 

Shah  Jehan,  grandson  of  Akbar,  spent  twenty-two 
years  and  untold  treasure  in  building  the  Taj,  that  it 
might  be  a  tribute  to  his  queen,  Mamtaz-i-Mahal — "The 
chosen  of  the  palace."  He  loved  her  with  so  great  a 
love  that  when  she  died,  his  only  consolation  was  in  the 
creation  of  this  wonderful  tribute  in  marble.  Later, 
when  Shah  Jehan  was  dethroned  and  imprisoned  by 
his  son,  tradition  says  that  he  asked  to  be  allowed  to 
be  confined  in  an  apartment  in  the  fort  from  which  he 
could  see  the  Taj  Mahal.  There  he  died,  facing  his 
matchless  memorial  to  his  beloved  queen. 

In  Agra  we  have  seen  resting  under  the  trees  herds 
of  camels  which  are  soon  to  start  over  the  desert  wastes 
of  Kajputana  to  the  west,  and  we  long  to  follow  them 
into  that  land  of  chivalry  and  romance.  Indeed  it 
seems  almost  impossible  that  we  should  fly  past  the  pic- 
turesque native  states  of  Rajputana  and  over  the  won- 
derful old  capitol  and  fort  of  Gwalior.  If  we  could 
only  stop  in  some  of  these  places,  we  could  be  the  guests 
of  rajahs  and,  seated  on  royal  elephants,  we  might  visit 
wonderful  ancient  palaces — and  modern  ones  as  well. 
"We  could  get  a  bit  of  the  flavor  of  the  life  in  these 
principalities  which  cover  a  third  of  India's  territory, 


18  INDIA    ON    THE    MAKCH 

and  which  still  maintain  much  of  the  glamour  and 
splendor  of  the  ancient  Oriental  despots. 

But  we  must  be  inexorable  with  ourselves.  Reso- 
lutely think  "Satpura  Mountains." 

What  a  contrast  to  the  palaces  and  mosques  of  Agra ! 
We  are  in  the  wild  region  of  mountain  and  jungle  which 
separates  the  northern  plain  of  India  from  the  great  up- 
land plateaus  of  the  Deccan  or  South  Country.  The 
trees  are  not  dense,  and  there  is  no  tangled  mass  of  vines 
and  creepers  such  as  you  may  have  pictured  in  an  Indian 
"jungle" ;  yet  jungle  it  is.  There  are  many  open  spaces, 
and  in  the  middle  of  some  of  them  you  see  impenetrable 
thickets  of  thorned  cactus.  We  are  on  a  narrow  wind- 
ing path  which  is  the  only  highway  through  this 
country. 

Suddenly,  noiselessly,  there  appears  before  us  a  dark 
little  man  with  a  short  bow  in  his  hand.  We  exchange 
greetings.  He  is  evidently  excited.  He  jabbers  away 
at  me  in  very  low  tones  and  gestures  toward  a  dense 
mass  of  cactus  only  a  hundred  yards  away.  Then  he 
looks  around  and  points  to  a  jutting  rock  on  the  hill- 
side on  the  other  side  of  the  valley.  This  man  is  a 
member  of  the  wild  hunter  tribe  of  Bhils  who  have  eyes 
as  keen  as  those  of  any  American  Indian.  They  live  in 
these  hills  and  make  their  living  largely  by  hunting.  A 
man-eating  Bengal  tiger  has  been  dealing  destruction  to 
their  jungle  village  and  to  others  as  well.  He  had  be- 
come so  bold  that  the  night  before,  he  pounced  upon 
and  carried  off  a  child  from  the  very  street  of  the  vil- 
lage, and  they  had  traced  him  to  this  place.  All  the 
men  of  the  village  had  come  out  with  whatever  weapons 


THE    WONDERLAND  19 

they  owned.  They  had  vowed  that,  no  matter  if  several 
of  them  were  killed  in  doing  it,  they  would  put  an  end 
to  the  constant  dread  of  their  lives  in  which  they  all 
lived  because  of  this  tiger.  He  was  gorged  with  his 
meal  and  at  present  lay  asleep.  They  were  about  to 
attack  him,  and  this  Bhil,  who  was  their  leader,  asked 
us  to  go  to  the  position  of  safety  on  the  hill. 

Quickly,  and  as  quietly  as  possible,  we  follow  our 
guide  and,  lying  flat  behind  the  rock,  eagerly  look 
toward  the  cactus.  Now  we  see  the  Bhils  approaching 
it  on  every  side.  Two  have  old  shot-guns  or  muskets. 
Most  of  the  men  carry  short  bows  of  stiff  bamboo  and 
reed  arrows  with  heavy  iron  heads.  All  have  hatchets 
stuck  into  their  waist-bands.  We  wait,  breathless.  The 
leader  gives  a  signal.  A  gun  shot  rings  out.  Arrows 
fly.  Then  a  great  roar,  and  out  from  the  cactus  crashes 
the  wounded  tiger.  He  pauses  a  moment  to  locate  his 
enemies.  We  hear  another  shot.  More  arrows  fly.  The 
tiger  staggers,  but  makes  a  spring  toward  the  nearest 
Bhil.  Alert  little  hunter  that  he  is,  he  springs  aside 
and  throws  his  hatchet  with  marvelous  skill.  It  makes 
a  deep  gash  in  the  great  tawny  beast's  neck.  The  tiger 
tries  to  follow  the  hunter,  but  staggers  and  falls.  At 
once  the  Bhils  are  upon  him  making  doubly  sure  of  their 
victory  by  blows  from  their  hatchets.  We  rush  down  to 
join  the  group  around  the  fallen  monarch  of  the  jungle. 
One  lucky  arrow  has  hit  an  eye.  Another  is  in  his  neck. 
Several  wounds  in  his  side  show  how  deadly  was  the 
aim  of  these  wiry  hill  men.  As  the  huge  beast  lies 
there  nearly  ten  feet  long,  his  great  fangs  showing 
through  his  open  jaws,  power  in  every  line  of  body  and 
leg,  we  marvel  at  the  courage  of  these  little  hunters  in 


20  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

attacking  such  a  creature  with  their  crude  weapons. 

It  is  surprising  and  interesting,  indeed,  to  find  that 
in  almost  every  part  of  such  a  thickly  peopled  land  as 
India  there  should  still  be  stretches  of  jungle  country 
inhabited  by  wild  or  half-tamed  peoples  like  the  Bhils. 

As  we  go  back  to  gather  up  the  belongings  we  had 
hastily  dropped  in  our  excitement,  we  are  brought  up 
with  a  start,  for  a  dark  snake  over  five  feet  long  is  lazily 
crawling  directly  across  our  path.  He  sees  us,  pauses, 
coils  himself,  and  raises  his  head.  No  mistaking  that 
head  with  the  beautiful  markings  on  its  spreading  um- 
brella. He  is  a  great  cobra.  As  we  retreat,  he  sees  that 
his  danger  is  past,  and,  uncoiling,  quickly  glides  into 
the  cactus  beyond,  for  he  is  just  a  little  bit  more  afraid 
of  us  than  we  are  of  him.  You  may  see  other  cobras 
while  you  are  in  India,  but  they  will  probably  be  in  the 
baskets  of  snake  charmers  and  jugglers.  All  over  India 
poisonous  snakes  are  a  lurking  danger,  and  we  are 
always  glad  to  have  a  mongoose  pay  our  hedges  a  visit ; 
but  you  may  live  in  India  for  years  and  never  see  a 
single  free  cobra.  I  am  almost  safe  in  assuring  you 
that  you  will  see  no  more  on  this  trip. 

After  this  experience  you  are  all  probably  quite  ready 
to  put  unusual  intensity  into  the  thought  which  is  to 
carry  us  out  of  this  wild  country  and  on  our  journey. 
"Tanjore"  is  the  word  this  time,  and  we  open  our  eyes 
to  find  ourselves  once  more  amid  the  streaming  crowds 
of  a  city  street.  We  are  a  thousand  miles  south  of  Agra 
in  a  city  which  is  a  great  center  of  South  India  culture. 
The  people  are  different  in  dress  and  in  appearance 
from  those  of  the  Korth.  The  language  sounds  differ- 
ent. The  buildings  are  different.  Somehow  the  whole 


THE    WONDERLAND  21 

atmosphere  is  entirely  changed.  We  see  almost  no 
bearded  Mohammedans  and  few  whose  light  complex- 
ions indicate  Aryan  blood.  These  people  are  Dravidians 
by  race.  They  were  driven  south  by  the  Aryan  in- 
vaders, and  here  they  founded  over  fifteen  hundred 
years  ago  a  civilization  which  has  ever  since  been  grow- 
ing richer  in  literature  and  art. 

I  see  that  your  eye  is  attracted  by  that  curious  great 
cannon  which  you  see  in  a  bastion  of  the  fort.  It  is 
named  Raja  Gopala  and  is  twenty-four  and  a  half  feet 
long  with  a  bore  of  two  and  a  half  feet.  You  could 
easily  crawl  into  it.  In  many  places  in  India  you  will 
find  big  guns  like  this  in  the  ancient  forts.  The  old 
Indian  Rajahs  were  very  fond  of  them.  Do  you  re- 
member that  Kim  was  sitting  on  one  in  Lahore  when 
he  first  met  his  Lama  ? 

A  massive  tower  covered  with  images  of  gods  and 
demons  rises  two  hundred  feet  above  us  and  soon  de- 
mands our  attention.  It  is  clearly  a  temple,  yet  we 
have  seen  no  such  mighty  temple  building  even  in  holy 
Benares.  As  we  walk  into  the  enclosure  another  great 
tower  appears  and  we  find  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  a 
bewildering  array  of  cloisters  and  chapels  covering  a 
very  wide  area,  all  part  of  the  same  temple.  The  guide 
tells  us  that  part  of  this  great  temple  dates  from  the 
fourth  century  A.  D. — that  is  from  the  time  of  the  Ro- 
man Empire.  Other  portions  were  built  a  little  after 
the  reign  of  William  the  Conqueror.  The  great  towers 
which  completed  the  temple  were  added  at  about  the 
time  of  Columbus.  Here  and  there  in  the  enclosure  we 
see  sleek  Brahman  priests  who  are  keenly  watching  to  be 
sure  that  we  do  not  go  where  we  are  not  allowed  and  so 


22  INDIA    OX    THE    MABCH 

desecrate  the  temple.  But  they  are  even  more  eagerly 
watching  the  offerings  of  the  worshippers. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  they  are  few  in  number  in 
South  India,  the  Brahmans  seem  to  dominate  things 
here  in  an  even  more  imperious  way  than  they  do  in  the 
North.  As  we  ramble  about  the  town,  we  cannot  get 
away  from  that  great  temple.  It  overshadows  the  whole 
city.  It  is  so  in  many  cities  of  the  South.  Hinduism 
seems  to  be  absolutely  in  control  here. 

Yet  in  this  very  country  Christianity  has  won  greater 
victories  than  anywhere  else  in  India.  Right  before 
us  is  one  visible  reason  for  this.  It  is  the  church  of 
Christian  Frederick  Schwartz  and  was  erected  by  him 
in  1Y77.  He  was  one  of  India's  greatest  early  mis- 
sionaries and  was  trusted  by  every  class  of  people.  At 
one  time  he  acted  as  ambassador  of  the  British  to  Hyder 
Ali  of  Mysore  and  made  so  great  an  impression  on  that 
fierce  ruler  that  he  invited  him  to  stay  in  his  country 
and  preach  Christianity.  But  Schwartz  declined  be- 
cause he  felt  that  he  was  most  needed  in  Tanjore.  The 
Rajah  of  Tanjore  asked  him  to  do  many  difficult  public 
services,  every  one  of  which  Schwartz  performed  with 
great  ability.  Finally,  the  Rajah  made  him  guardian 
of  Sarabojee,  his  son  and  heir. 

For  a  time  this  humble  missionary,  whose  main  in- 
terest was  in  his  growing  congregations  of  Christians, 
was  the  most  important  man  in  the  government  of  a 
rich  and  populous  native  state.  The  young  Rajah 
whose  guardian  he  had  been,  loved  him  as  a  father,  and 
when  Schwartz  died,  erected  to  his  memory  the  marble 
monument  which  we  see  in  the  church.  He  also  com- 
posed the  quaint  inscription  which  we  shall  read : 


THE    WONDERLAND  23 

Firm  wast  them,  humble  and  wise, 
Honest,  pure,  free  from  disguise, 
Father  of  orphans,  the  widow's  support, 
Comfort  in  sorrow  of  every  sort. 
To  the  benighted,  dispenser  of  light, 
Doing  and  pointing  to  that  which  is  right. 
Blessing  to  princes,  to  people,  to  me; 
May  I,  my  father,  be  worthy  of  thee! 
Wishest  and  prayest  thy  Sarabojee. 

Our  week  of  sightseeing  is  over,  and  we  must  be  get- 
ting back  to  Bombay  for  a  Sunday  of  rest.  We  shall 
pass,  swift  as  thought,  over  the  high  mountains  of  South 
India,  over  her  great  upland  plateau,  over  the  "Western 
Ghats"  which  rise  near  India's  western  coast,  and  down 
again  into  the  mission  compound  in  Bombay,  eight 
hundred  miles  away. 

As  we  sit  back  in  our  comfortable  veranda  chairs,  we 
shall  all  be  going  over  in  imagination  the  many  great 
sights  which  we  have  seen.  There  will  also  come  pour- 
ing into  the  minds  of  each  of  us  little  bits  of  native  life 
and  color  which  perhaps  we  alone  have  noticed.  We 
have  seen  something  of  the  wonders  of  nature  and  art  in 
India,  something  of  her  variety  of  life,  something  of 
the  greatness  of  her  past,  something  of  her  human  in- 
terest. 

After  a  Sunday  of  worship  with  the  progressive 
Indian  church  and  of  quiet  rest  in  our  bungalows,  you 
will  be  eager  to  go  on  to  find  the  answers  to  some  of 
the  questions  about  India  that  fairly  bristle  in  your 
mind  and  to  become  better  acquainted  with  her  inter- 
esting people. 


It  may  take  years — it  may  take  a  century — to  fit 
India  for  self-government,  but  it  is  a  thing  worth  doing 
and  a  thing  that  may  be  done.  It  is  a  distinct  and 
intelligible  Indian  policy  for  England  to  pursue — a  way 
for  both  countries  out  of  the  embarrassments  of  their 
twisted  destinies.  Then  set  it  before  you.  Believe  in 
it.  Hope  for  it.  Work  up  to  it  in  all  your  public  acts 
and  votes  and  conversations  with  your  fellow-men. 
And  ever  remember  that  there  is  but  one  way  by  which 
it  can  be  reached.  .  .  .  Till  India  is  leavened  with  Chris- 
tianity, she  will  be  unfit  for  freedom.  When  India  is 
leavened  with  Christianity,  she  will  be  unfit  for  any 
form  of  slavery,  however  mild.  England  may  then  leave 
her  .  .  .  freely,  frankly,  gladly,  proudly  leave  the  stately 
daughter  she  has  reared,  to  walk  the  future  with  a  free 
imperial  step. — Sir  Herbert  Edwardes,  K.C.B.,  K.C.8.I., 
Hero  of  the  Indian  Mutiny 


II 

The  Meeting  Ground  of  East  and  West 

WE  are  on  an  athletic  field  in  the  beautiful  inland 
city  of  Poona  in  western  India.  A  crowd  of  excited 
boys  and  men  is  watching  a  game  of  atia-patia — a  pop- 
ular team  game  that  is  played,  under  different  names, 
over  most  of  India.  This  particular  contest  is  between 
two  of  Poona's  high  school  teams.  The  players  are 
barefooted.  They  wear  but  little  clothing,  and  their 
light  brown  bodies  are  lithe  and  graceful.  By  their 
color  and  general  appearance  we  can  easily  see  that 
almost  all  of  them  are  Brahmans,  the  proud  descendants 
of  India's  Aryan  conquerors.  Ten  players  are  lined  up 
at  one  end  of  the  long,  narrow  field.  The  opposing 
team  is  scattered  down  the  field,  each  player  guarding  a 
cross  line.  You  can  picture  what  the  field  is  like  by 
thinking  of  a  shortened  football  gridiron  squeezed  to- 
gether until  its  side  lines  are  six  yards  apart,  a  third 
line  running  down  the  center. 

The  signal  to  start  is  given,  and  the  attacking  team 
rushes  forward  into  the  upper  squares.  One  fine  look- 
ing fellow  slips  through  the  first  opponents  and  comes 
bounding  down  toward  the  lower  end  of  the  field,  stop- 
ping short  before  an  alert  antagonist.  !Now  watch  the 
contest.  Back  and  forth  he  runs,  seeking  an  opening; 
but  the  guardian  of  the  square  is  equally  quick  and 
bars  the  way.  Suddenly,  like  a  flash,  the  runner  flings 
himself  almost  flat  on  the  ground,  but  forward  and  out- 
ward so  that  only  one  foot  remains  inside  the  side  line, 
thus  keeping  him  technically  within  bounds.  Again, 

25 


26  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

like  a  flash,  he  rises,  but  he  is  beyond  the  guardian  of 
that  line  and  in  the  next  square.  You  never  saw  a 
football  runner  in  America  put  more  fire  into  his  play, 
and  I  doubt  if  you  ever  saw  one  who  moved  more 
quickly.  Others  follow.  See  how  skilfully  the  team 
works  together  in  getting  its  men  forward,  and  with 
what  fearlessness  and  abandon  they  throw  themselves 
down  in  passing  their  opponents.  Gradually  they  work 
their  way  forward  until  the  first  player  has  reached  the 
farther  end  of  the  field  and,  turning,  has  threaded  his 
way  back  until  he  finally  dodges  across  the  starting 
line.  "Lon!  Lon I"  they  shout.  "Goal!  Goal!"  The 
boys  jump  and  yell  for  all  the  world  like  American  boys 
whose  team  has  made  a  touchdown. 

These  boys  are  the  "lazy  Brahmans"  about  whom  you 
may  have  heard !  A  few  years  ago  most  of  them  would 
have  been  spending  the  afternoon  idly  strolling  about, 
telling  stories,  and  singing  songs;  or  they  would  have 
been  lying  on  their  beds  or  under  a  tree,  committing  to 
memory  some  text-book.  But  now  they  have  caught  the 
new  spirit  which  is  abroad  in  the  land.  They  want  to 
see  their  country  playing  a  great  part  in  the  world. 
They  realize  that  India  must  have  men  of  strong  bodies 
and  fearless  spirits,  men  able  to  play  the  game  as  a 
team  and  take  failure  with  a  smile.  There  is  passionate 
patriotism  in  the  way  the  high-caste  boys  in  the  schools 
of  Poona  and  other  places  are  getting  ready  to  meet  this 
need.  More  than  school  loyalty  expresses  itself  in  the 
way  they  are  playing  atia-patia.  There  is  love  of  their 
Motherland.  "Bande  Mataram !"  1 — "Hail  to  the 
Motherland !" — is  their  rallying  cry. 

i  Bundey  Materum. 


THE  MEETING  GBOUND  OF  EAST  AND  WEST  27 

Back  of  this  new  patriotism  which  is  changing  these 
schoolboys  from  flabby,  selfish  bookworms  into  keen 
athletes  lies  India's  contact  with  the  modern  Western 
world — especially  with  sport-loving  and  liberty-loving 
Britain.  You  cannot  understand  India's  modern  schools 
and  colleges,  its  great  factory  chimneys,  and  its  passion- 
ate patriotism,  flourishing  right  by  the  side  of  densest 
ignorance,  wooden  plows,  and  indifference  to  public 
affairs,  unless  you  know  something  of  the  fascinating 
story  of  her  contact  with  the  Western  nations. 

The  Western  world  has  always  been  nearer  to  the 
Eastern  world  than  most  persons  imagine.  Every 
American  schoolboy  and  businessman  uses  something 
Indian  many  times  a  day.  We  do  all  our  figuring  with 
what  we  call  "Arabic  numerals,"  because  they  came  to 
Europe  through  the  Arabs.  But  they  are  really  Indian 
numerals  which  were  brought  to  Palestine  by  Arab 
traders  before  the  time  of  the  Crusades.  The  Crusaders 
introduced  them  into  Europe.  Of  course,  they  have 
changed  a  little  in  the  process  of  time  and  travel,  but 
not  very  much,  after  all,  as  you  shall  see  if  you  will 
come  into  one  of  our  little  elementary  schools.  It  will 
take  you  about  three  minutes  to  learn  how  to  follow 
everything  which  the  boys  write  as  they  work  out  or- 
dinary examples  in  arithmetic.  And  remember  that 
their  ancestors  were  using  these  figures  when  our  own 
were  hunting  with  bows  and  arrows  in  the  forests  of 
Europe  and  counting  on  their  fingers. 

India  has  ever  held  a  fascination  for  Europe.  In 
the  old  days  great  caravans  transported  her  precious 
stones  and  her  spices,  her  ivory  and  her  beautiful  cloth 


28  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

to  Constantinople  and  other  ports,  and  merchants  from 
Venice  and  Genoa  spread  them  over  Europe.  "Calico" 
was  named  from  the  city  of  Calicut  in  India  from 
which  this  kind  of  cloth  first  came.  Fancy  the  Queen 
of  England  making  the  hit  of  the  season  at  Court  by 
appearing  in  a  robe  made  from  a  rare  Indian  cloth 
which  some  English  merchant  had  just  brought  from 
Venice,  and  which  was  really  nothing  more  nor  less 
than  a  calico  dress. 

When  the  Turks  conquered  Syria  and  Asia  Minor, 
they  closed  the  caravan  routes  between  India  and 
Europe  and  tried  to  keep  all  the  Indian  trade  to 
themselves;  but  western  Europe  refused  to  be  cut  off 
from  the  trade  of  India.  The  fine  ladies  were  bound  to 
have  their  Calicut  dresses  as  well  as  their  muslins  and 
cloth  of  gold,  their  diamonds  and  pearls.  It  was  the 
lure  of  India  that  led  the  navigators  of  Spain  and 
Portugal  to  try  to  sail  around  Africa  and  that  led 
Columbus  to  venture  out  on  the  untried  western  ocean. 
When  he  discovered  land,  he  thought  that  he  had 
reached  India,  and  naturally  he  called  the  natives  "In- 
dians." Europeans  were  sorely  disappointed  when  it  be- 
came known  that  they  had  only  discovered  America, 
when  they  had  hoped  to  find  India ! 

After  many  unsuccessful  attempts  the  Portuguese 
finally  found  their  way  around  Africa  to  India  and 
established  trading-stations  there.  It  was  the  age  of 
daring  adventure.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  was  fitting  out 
his  first  colonizing  expedition  for  Virginia.  At  about 
the  sama  time  a  company  of  English  traders  secured  a 
charter  from  good  Queen  Bess  and  sent  ships  on  the 
six  months'  journey  around  Africa  to  start  a  modest 


29 

trading-station  at  Surat,  the  port  of  Akbar's  Empire. 
So  began  two  dangerous  little  English  enterprises,  each 
of  which  often  seemed  on  the  very  verge  of  failure.  By 
the  sheer  pluck  of  those  sturdy  pioneers,  both  ventures 
succeeded  and  have  resulted  in  mighty  empires.  To 
the  east  is  the  great  Indian  Empire,  still  controlled  by 
Britain,  and  to  the  west,  the  imperial  lands  of  Canada 
and  the  United  States,  which  owe  their  language  and 
much  of  their  civilization  to  England. 

It  is  a  very  interesting  fact  that  the  English  did  not 
at  first  wish  to  govern  India  or  dream  that  they  ever 
would  do  so.  All  they  sought  was  a  chance  for  peace- 
ful trade.  In  the  quaint  style  of  the  day,  Sir  Thomas 
Roe,  British  ambassador  to  the  Mogul  court,  wrote,  in 
1612:  "A  war  and  traffic  is  incompatible.  .  .  .  Let 
this  be  received  as  a  rule.  If  you  will  profit,  seek  it 
in  private  trade."  He  pointed  out  that  the  Portuguese 
and  Dutch  lost  the  profits  of  their  trade  by  getting 
mixed  up  with  the  government  of  the  country  and  so 
having  to  maintain  armies.  Yet  it  was  not  twelve  years 
before  the  British  had  to  fight  off  the  jealous  Portu- 
guese at  Surat.  Then  Shiva ji,  the  great  Indian  chief, 
swooped  down  from  his  mountain  fortresses  to  raid  this 
rich  port.  Later  on  the  Dutch  and  the  French  attacked 
the  English,  who  soon  found  that  if  they  wanted  to 
trade,  they  would  have  to  be  strong  enough  to  defend 
themselves.  So  they  built  forts  and  organized  little 
armies  consisting  of  a  few  Englishmen  and  many  more 
Indian  soldiers,  or  sepoys. 

Many  bold  adventurers  and  able  leaders  had  a  hand 
in  the  development  of  England's  connection  with  India. 
There  were  wars,  and  there  was  much  hard  work.  First, 


30  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

the  English  won  little  pieces  of  territory,  among  them 
the  wild  island  of  Bombay,  which  was  very  much  like 
the  equally  wild  island  of  Manhattan  on  which  New 
York  City  was  soon  to  be  built.  Then  they  conquered, 
one  by  one,  whole  provinces  as  big  and  rich  and  popu- 
lous as  European  countries.  It  was  a  long  process,  but 
by  1857  it  was  almost  finished,  and  the  British  East 
India  Company  found  itself,  with  a  handful  of  white 
men  and  many  Indian  assistants,  governing  a  land  as 
large  and  with  as  great  a  population  as  all  Europe  ex- 
cept Russia. 

Among  the  interesting  men  who  laid  the  foundations 
of  the  Indian  Empire  was  rough  Job  Charnock,  who 
doggedly  clung  to  the  fever-infested  mud  flat  which  the 
Nawab  (ruler)  of  Bengal  assigned  to  him  as  a  trading- 
post.  He  watched  most  of  his  men  sicken  and  die,  but 
stayed  on  until  the  beginnings  of  the  great  city  of  Cal- 
cutta rose  about  him.  There  was  Gerald  Angier,  early 
governor  of  Bombay,  who  had  the  vision  to  see  "the  city 
which  by  God's  assistance  is  intended  to  be  built,"  and 
who  was  "a  chivalric  and  intrepid  man  who  made  it 
his  daily  study  to  advance  the  company's  interest  and 
the  good  and  safety  of  the  people  under  him." 

The  most  picturesque  and  typical  figure  of  the  early 
days  of  Britain's  contact  with  India  is  that  of  Eobert 
Clive.  He  was  a  tempestuous,  uncontrolled  boy.  Once 
he  shocked  the  sedate  people  of  his  quiet  English  village 
by  climbing  the  steeple  of  the  village  church  and  sitting 
astride  the  eaves-spout.  No  school  kept  him  long,  and 
at  eighteen  his  father  packed  him  off  to  India  as  a 
clerk  of  the  East  India  Company.  Seven  years  later, 
with  a  tiny  force  of  poorly  trained  troops,  most  of  them 


THE  MEETING  GROUND  OF  EAST  AND  WEST  31 

Indian  sepoys,  he  had,  by  his  bravery  and  wonderful 
leadership,  captured  the  important  fortress  of  Arcot, 
withstood  a  siege,  won  a  decisive  victory,  and  turned  the 
tide  against  the  seemingly  all-conquering  French.  The 
mighty  French  power  in  India  never  recovered  from 
that  defeat  by  an  English  boy  commander  who  was 
trained  to  be  a  clerk,  but  who  had  the  heart  of  a  great 
general.  When  his  father  heard  of  the  brilliant  victory 
of  Arcot,  he  said,  "After  all,  the  booby  has  something 
in  him." 

At  thirty  Olive  was  made  Governor  of 'Madras.  Soon 
afterward  tidings  came  speeding  from  the  north  that 
Sura j ah  Dowlah,  the  depraved  and  cruel  Nawab  of 
Bengal,  had  captured  Calcutta  and  had  thrown  one 
hundred  and  forty-six  European  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren into  the  Black  Hole  where  all  but  twenty-three  of 
them  perished  in  the  night.  The  new  Governor  lost  no 
time  in  preparing  to  march  against  the  Nawab,  and  soon 
found  himself  with  a  little  army  of  two  thousand  In- 
dian and  one  thousand  English  soldiers  with  nine  small 
cannon  facing  the  Nawab's  army  of  fifty  thousand  in- 
fantry and  eighteen  thousand  cavalry  with  a  contingent 
of  French  soldiers  and  with  fifty  great  cannon  drawn 
up  at  some  distance  beyond  a  small  river.  Should  he 
cross  the  river  against  the  enemy  and  so  risk  the 
annihilation  of  his  force?  All  the  officers  except  one 
advised  against  taking  such  a  risk,  but  when  the  coun- 
cil of  war  broke  up,  Clive  reversed  their  decision  and 
led  his  little  army  forward.  Next  day  the  battle  of 
Plassey  was  fought,  the  ISTawab's  army  was  completely 
defeated,  and  the  English  became  the  real  power  in  the 
great  province  of  Bengal.  The  mighty  British  Empire 


32  INDIA    ON    THE    MAKCH 

in  India  practically  dates  from  June  22,  1757,  the  day 
on  which  young  Olive  decided  to  cross  the  river  and 
fight  the  Nawab. 

What  follows  sounds  like  a  story-book  romance.  The 
corrupt  Nawab  fled,  but  was  captured  and  killed.  Olive 
installed  a  new  and  friendly  ruler,  who  took  him  through 
the  treasure  chamber  of  the  capital,  with  its  great  jars 
of  jewels  and  gold  and  silver  coins  on  either  hand,  and 
told  him  to  take  what  he  wanted  as  a  present.  In  those 
days  it  was  considered  honorable  for  a  general  to  take 
such  spoils  of  war,  and  Olive  actually  accepted  treasure 
worth  more  than  a  million  dollars,  while  other  officers 
and  officials  received  large  sums.  Rupees,  plate,  and 
jewels  were  sent  in  boat-loads  down  the  river  to  Cal- 
cutta. Two  years  later,  for  another  service,  the  new 
Nawab  gave  Olive  as  a  little  token  of  appreciation  the 
revenue  of  the  Calcutta  district,  or  about  $150,000  a 
year. 

The  English  did  not  yet  understand  what  a  poor 
country  India  really  was.  They  knew  of  Akbar's  splen- 
dor and  of  the  vast  treasures  of  Indian  rulers ;  they  did 
not  realize  that  these  treasures  were  wrung  from  the 
poverty  of  India's  peasants.  Young  Olive  resigned 
from  his  position  and  returned  to  England  where  he  was 
made  a  peer  and  lived  as  a  "Nabob."  Naturally  the 
other  agents  of  the  East  India  Company  wanted  to  fol- 
low dive's  example.  There  was  a  general  scramble 
after  money  which  resulted  in  the  oppression  of  the 
Indians.  The  Company  saw  that  it  must  send  out  from 
England  a  Governor-General  who  would  be  strong 
enough  to  clean  things  up. 

Of  all  men  they  chose  for  the  task  this  young  prince 


THE   MEETING  GROUND  OF  EAST  AND   WEST  33 

of  Nabobs,  this  man  who  had  become  a  millionaire  over 
night  out  of  the  spoils  of  India — Robert  Clive.  And 
they  chose  rightly.  Clive  was  as  brave  and  fearless  in 
his  fight  against  the  corruption  of  his  countrymen  as 
he  had  been  in  battle  and  did  much  to  "cleanse  the 
Augean  stables."  In  two  short  years  of  intense  activity 
which  broke  his  health,  he  made  the  Company's  posi- 
tion in  India  far  stronger  than  it  had  been.  Macaulay 
says  about  this  man  who  went  to  India  a  scapegrace 
boy  to  become  a  clerk  in  a  struggling  company  and  in 
a  few  years  won  an  empire  for  England,  "Our  island, 
so  fertile  in  heroes  and  statesmen,  has  scarcely  ever 
produced  a  man  more  truly  great  either  in  arms  or  in 
council." 

At  the  time  that  Clive  was  winning  his  battles,  the 
Mogul  Empire  was  crumbling,  and  all  India  was  in 
confusion.  Little  kingdoms  were  rising  and  fighting 
each  other  on  every  side.  Great  bands  of  robbers 
roamed  the  country.  But  gradually  British  rule  ex- 
tended, bringing  peace  and  order.  Sometimes  the 
earlier  British  rulers  were  harsh  and  intolerant  and 
did  India  wrong;  but  often  they  were  men  of  noble 
character  and  ability.  On  the  whole,  they  brought 
peace  and  progress  to  a  disturbed  and  suffering  land. 

In  many  ways  the  outstanding  man  among  all  the 
earlier  English  rulers  in  India  was  Lord  William  Ben- 
tinck.  He  was  a  great  lover  of  liberty.  As  a  young 
man  he  helped  Italy  to  win  her  freedom,  and  when  he 
became  Governor-General,  in  1828,  he  did  everything 
in  his  power  to  give  Indians  high  place  in  their  coun- 
try's life.  He  also  fearlessly  fought  such  Indian 


34:  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

abuses  as  sail,  or  the  burning  of  widows  on  the  funeral 
pyres  of  their  husbands,  and  the  inhuman  practice  that 
existed  in  some  parts  of  India  of  killing  many  of  the 
girl  babies. 

It  was  in  Lord  William  Bentinck's  day  that  there 
came  the  great  controversy  as  to  whether  the  Govern- 
ment should  offer  Indians  an  English  education  or 
whether  it  should  favor  teaching  them  only  their  own 
languages  and  culture.  A  strong  party  argued  that  the 
Government  should  encourage  only  Indian  education. 
It  would  be  dangerous  for  the  British  Government,  they 
said,  for  Indians  to  receive  Western  education  and  learn 
too  much  about  Western  freedom. 

Perhaps  the  strongest  and  most  enthusiastic  advocate 
of  English  education  was  a  young  Scotch  missionary, 
Alexander  Duff.  He  believed  that  Indians  were 
worthy  of  the  very  best  that  the  West  could  give  them, 
and,  what  was  more,  he  was  proving  in  his  own  remark- 
able school  what  English  education  would  do  for  India. 
The  famous  Macaulay,  who  was  then  a  member  of 
the  Supreme  Council  and  to  whom  this  question  was 
referred,  advised  strongly  in  favor  of  English  educa- 
tion. In  his  epoch-making  Minute,  with  which  Lord 
William  Bentinck  heartily  agreed,  he  repudiated  the 
idea  of  keeping  India  ignorant  in  order  to  keep  it  sub- 
missive. He  clearly  saw  that  through  English  educa- 
tion the  day  might  come  when  India  would  outgrow 
British  rule  and  demand  European  institutions  of  free- 
dom, and  he  said,  "Whenever  it  comes,  it  will  be  the 
proudest  day  in  British  history."  In  this  high  spirit 
the  British  Government  definitely  committed  itself  to 
promoting  Indian  progress. 


THE  MEETING  GKOUND  OF  EAST  AND   WEST  35 

But  probably  the  man  who  did  more  than  any  Briton 
could  do  to  lead  India  out  into  the  modern  world  was 
the  Indian  prophet  of  the  new  day,  the  Jlajah  Ram 
Mohan  Roy,  "through  whose  courageous  efforts  a  golden 
bridge  was  first  erected  uniting  the  progressive,  practical 
traditions  of  the  West  with  the  sublime  idealism  of  the 
East." 2  Up  to  his  time  most  leading  Indians  had 
clung  to  their  own  old  ways  and  had  opposed  Western 
civilization.  Rajah  Ram  Mohan  Roy  had  the  courage 
to  attack  the  ancient  evils  of  India, — idolatry  and  caste 
and  sati.  He  secured  for  Duff  the  rooms  in  which  he 
started  his  school,  helped  him  and  other  missionaries 
in  many  ways,  and  cooperated  with  Lord  William  Ben- 
tinck  in  his  fight  against  sati  and  in  his  other  reforms. 
Ram  Mohan  Roy  dared  to  tell  his  proud  high-caste 
countrymen  that  they  must  learn  from  the  West,  and 
that  they  must  learn  from  Christ.  It  was  his  conviction 
that  underneath  all  reform  must  lie  religion,  and  his 
greatest  work  was  the  founding  of  a  liberal  religious 
society,  the  Brahmo  Samaj.  He  wrote,  "I  have  found 
the  doctrines  of  Christ  more  conducive  to  moral  prin- 
ciples and  better  adapted  to  the  use  of  rational  beings 
than  any  other  which  have  come  to  my  knowledge." 

Of  course  he  was  persecuted.  When  he  was  a  very 
young  man,  his  father  turned  him  out  and  told  him 
never  to  darken  his  doorstep  again.  After  his  father's 
death,  his  mother  bitterly  attacked  him.  Orthodox 
Hindu  leaders  did  everything  they  could  against  him, 
but  he  did  not  swerve  from  his  course.  If  Clive  was 
the  founder  of  the  British  Empire  in  India,  Rajah  Ram 
Mohan  Roy  was  the  founder  of  the  modern,  progressive 

2  India's  Nation  Builders,  p.  40. 


36  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

India  of  today.  In  many  ways  he  was  a  nobler  figure 
than  Olive.  The  battles  which  he  fought  were  just  as 
hard  and  they  demanded  a  higher  kind  of  courage.  His 
successes  were  not  so  spectacular  as  those  of  Clive,  but 
they  probably  had  a  larger  influence  on  the  inner  life 
of  India.. 

This  great  pioneer  of  the  new  India  was  the  first  of  a 
notable  group  of  brave  and  able  reformers.  Many  of 
them  graduated  from  mission  schools  and  colleges.  Al- 
most all  of  them  felt  the  influence  of  Christ.  They 
attacked  Indian  idolatry,  sometimes  at  the  risk  of  their 
lives.  They  denounced  India's  treatment  of  its  women, 
saying  that  little  girls  had  a  right  to  their  childhood 
and  must  not  be  married  until  they  were  at  least  four- 
teen. They  supported  schools  for  girls  which  were 
generally  under  the  care  of  women  missionaries.  They 
even  dared  to  break  the  rules  of  the  great  sacred  system 
of  caste.  A  few  of  these  reformers  were  killed,  espe- 
cially those  who  were  bold  enough  to  become  Christian. 
Almost  all  of  them  were  persecuted  by  orthodox  Hindus. 
But  every  year  Indians  in  increasing  numbers  were 
educated  in  English  schools  and  were  getting  ideas  of 
liberty  and  democracy.  More  and  more  Indian  students 
and  leaders  were  following  Ram  Mohan  Roy  by  honor- 
ing Christ  and  His  teaching  of  brotherhood.  Gradu- 
ally reform  and  progress  gained  ground. 

During  this  period  more  Christian  missionaries  were 
establishing  their  schools  and  hospitals  and  churches. 
Western  railways  were  introduced,  and  on  their  trains 
Indians  of  all  castes  travelled  together.  In  the  new 
schools  that  were  springing  up,  children  of  many  differ- 
ent castes  studied  and  played  together.  Old  India  was 


( 1 )  The  humble  ek'ica  brings  a  new  student  to  the  gate  of  a 
Christian   college.      One   sixth   of  all   the   students   of   India   are 
enrolled  in  mission  colleges. 

(2)  A  game  of  atia-patia.    The  students  realize  that  India  must 
have  men  of  strong  bodies  and  fearless  spirits,  men  able  to  play 
the  game  as  a  team  and  take  failure  with  a  smile. 


THE   MEETING  GROUND  OF  EAST  AND   WEST  37 

gradually  being  changed.  The  terrible  wrongs  of  In- 
dian women  and  girls,  of  the  outcastes,  and  of  all  un- 
fortunates were  very  slowly  but  very  surely  growing 
less,  and  the  spirit  of  public  service  was  increasing. 

Then  came  the  great  Indian  mutiny  of  1857  in  which 
many  regiments  of  Indian  sepoys  shot  their  British 
officers,  killed  white  women  and  children  and  native 
Christians,  captured  the  old  capital  city  of  Delhi  and 
several  other  cities,  and,  with  the  help  of  some  of  the 
people,  attempted  to  set  up  again  the  old  Mogul  Em- 
pire. This  crisis  was  really  like  the  Boxer  Uprising  in 
China.  It  was  the  last  violent  attempt  of  the  old  East 
to  keep  out  the  new  West. 

When  the  mutiny  failed  and,  by  proclamation  of 
Queen  Victoria,  the  Crown  took  over  from  the  East 
India  Company  the  control  of  India,  most  educated  In- 
dians accepted  the  new  order.  Railway  travel  grew 
popular  and  increased  immensely.  Factories  began  to 
spring  up.  High  schools  and  colleges  were  crowded  with 
eager  students.  Hundreds  and  thousands  of  Indians 
defied  Hindu  prejudice  by  crossing  the  "black  water" 
to  finish  their  education  in  England  and  America.  The 
West  seemed  to  be  gradually  dominating  India. 

In  1905,  little  Japan's  victory  over  great  Russia  sent 
a  thrill  of  new  hope  throughout  Asia.  Educated  In- 
dians began  to  ask,  "Why  cannot  India  become  free 
and  strong  like  Japan  ?"  Many  ardent  young  men  an- 
swered, "We  can  and  we  will."  A  well-known  mission- 
ary tells  of  a  typical  young  Indian  who,  before  the 
Russo-Japanese  War,  had  rarely  thought  of  India  as  a 
whole;  his  ambitions  had  centered  in  his  family  and 


38  INDIA    ON    THE    MABCH 

caste.  But  the  night  when  he  heard  of  the  defeat  of  the 
Russian  fleet,  a  clear  vision  of  his  country  came  to  him. 
India  appeared  as  a  desolate  mother  claiming  his  love, 
and  the  vision  was  so  vivid  that  for  months  afterwards 
he  could  shut  his  eyes  and  see  it  again.  Like  Paul,  he  set 
out  at  once  to  obey  his  vision.  Because  he  saw  that 
until  the  Mohammedans  and  Hindus  came  together 
there  could  be  no  united  India,  he  began  by  seeking  to 
win  the  friendship  of  the  Mohammedans.  From  this 
he  went  on  in  his  service  of  his  country,  risking  his  life 
in  work  in  a  plague  camp,  then  going  into  relief  work 
in  a  famine  stricken  district.  Japan's  victory  had 
changed  his  whole  life.3 

Thousands  of  young  Indians  went  through  experi- 
ences like  this,  and  a  new  spirit  came  over  the  land. 
Since  1905,  agitation  and  patriotic  movements  have 
been  going  on  all  the  time  in  India. 

Mr.  Gokhale,  the  strongest  Indian  social  and  political 
leader  of  the  last  generation,  founded  the  Servants  of 
India  Society.  This  is  a  little  group  of  highly  educated 
Indians,  most  of  them  Brahmans,  who  dedicate  their 
lives  to  the  service  of  those  in  need.  When  they  enter 
the  Society,  even  though  they  could  earn  many  times 
as  much  elsewhere,  they  are  given  a  salary  of  twenty- 
five  dollars  a  month,  only  enough  for  a  bare  living. 
Whenever  famines  have  come,  the  members  of  this  So- 
ciety have  organized  very  effective  relief.  They  have 
gone  into  the  factory  districts  of  Bombay  and  have 
tried  to  brighten  and  improve  the  hard  life  of  the  mill- 
hands  by  forming  clubs,  by  helping  them  to  keep  clear 
of  drink  and  to  save  money,  and  by  showing  their 

ZThe  Renaissance  in  India,  Andrews,   p.   19. 


THE   MEETING  GROUND  OF  EAST  AND   WEST  39 

friendship  in  many  ways.  They  are  in  the  forefront  of 
every  social  reform  in  India. 

Mr.  Kelkar  started  a  plow  factory  where  he  manu- 
factures modern  steel  plows  to  replace  the  old  wooden 
ones  which  Indians  have  used  for  centuries.  This  in 
itself  is  a  great  service  to  India,  but  Mr.  Kelkar  doea 
more.  He  is  making  his  factory  a  model,  where  work- 
ing conditions  are  healthful  and  where  the  life  of  the 
workers  is  worth  while.  There  is  a  recreation  ground 
for  the  employees,  and  Mr.  Kelkar  himself  freely  joins 
them  in  tennis  and  other  games,  though  some  of  them 
are  lowest  outcastes. 

One  of  India's  nohlest  women,  Mrs.  Ramabai  Ranade, 
opened  the  Seva  Sadan*  or  "Home  of  Service,"  in  which 
women  learn  to  serve  much  as  the  men  do  in  the  Serv- 
ants of  India  Society.  There  have  been  great  temper- 
ance movements  also.  Ram  Mohan  Roy's  Brahmo 
Samaj  has  kept  up  its  service.  The  Arya  Samaj  is  a 
powerful  reform  movement  among  Indians  which  is 
unlike  most  of  the  rest  in  that  it  is  definitely  opposed 
to  Christianity. 

All  of  these  movements  and  many  more  like  them  are 
the  mighty  indirect  result  of  Christian  missions.  They 
are  winning  Indian  leaders  away  from  the  old  Hindu 
idea  that  life  is  something  evil  to  be  escaped,  and  are 
teaching  them  the  Christian  lesson  that  the  life  of  ser- 
vice is  something  good,  to  be  gladly  followed.  They 
show  how  rapidly  and  powerfully  the  Christian  leaven 
has  been  working.  Many  of  the  leaders  reject  organized 
Christianity  because  they  think  of  it  as  Western.  But 
their  whole  outlook  is  being  changed  by  the  silent,  per- 
4  Sayvah  Sudden. 


40  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

vasive  influence  of  Christ  which  has  come  into  the  life 
of  India  largely  through  modern  missionary  activity. 
One  of  the  first  and  ablest  of  India's  young  reformers, 
Mr.  Gr.  K.  Devadhar  of  the  Servants  of  India  Society, 
frankly  acknowledges  that  he  received  his  own  impulse 
to  such  service  from  a  mission  school  and  says,  "Chris- 
tian missions  have  played  a  large  part  in  the  great  in- 
tellectual and  spiritual  evolution  that  has  slowly  gone 
on  in  this  country  during  the  past  century,  and  they 
have  been  one  of  the  potent  factors  which  have  produced 
modern  India." 

Intense  political  activity  has  gone  on  also,  and  even 
high  school  boys  have  had  a  share  in  it.  There  have 
been  plots  and  bombs  and  the  shooting  of  officials.  In- 
dian students  have  often  shown  that  they  were  willing 
to  die  for  their  country.  Two  political  parties  have  de- 
veloped :  one,  of  radicals  who  have  urged  India  to  break 
away  from  Great  Britain  at  once.  Some  in  this  party 
would  use  only  peaceful  measures.  Others  are  prepared, 
if  necessary,  to  use  force.  The  other  party  is  made  up 
of  more  conservative  men  who  want  to  accept  British 
help  for  some  years  to  come.  These  two  parties  have 
fought  for  the  control  of  the  National  Congress  which 
has  been  the  great  Indian  gathering  in  which  educated 
Indians  meet  to  express  their  opinions  on  public  ques- 
tions. The  more  radical  party  now  dominates  the  Con- 
gress. An  interesting  fact  about  this  Congress  is  that 
the  only  language  which  all  who  attend  can  understand 
and  use  is  the  English  language.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
it  is  the  English  type  of  freedom  which  the  Indian 
National  Congress  is  demanding,  and  the  English  Ian- 


THE   MEETING  GROUND  OF  EAST  AND   WEST  41 

guage  is  the  natural  one  to  use  in  making  the  demand. 

When  the  World  War  came,  one  of  the  questions 
which  British  leaders  asked  was,  "What  will  India  do  ? 
Will  she  use  this  chance  to  become  independent  ?  Or 
will  she  be  loyal  to  our  cause  ?"  Britain  did  not  have 
long  to  wait  for  an  answer.  The  educated  leaders  of 
India  were  roused  to  anger  by  Germany's  ruthless  treat- 
ment of  Belgium.  The  message  she  sent  to  Britain  was, 
"We  are  with  you."  Her  leaders  said  it,  the  news- 
papers said  it,  the  native  princes  said  it,  and  the  Indian 
soldiers  said  it.  It  sent  a  thrill  through  both  England 
and  India  when  the  brown  veteran  troops  of  India 
marched  into  the  great  first  battle  of  Ypres  and  played 
a  large  part  in  saving  the  day  and  thus  in  saving  the 
cause  of  the  Allies. 

Canada  and  the  United  States  are  proud  of  the  part 
they  played  in  the  War,  and  well  they  may  be;  but 
perhaps  America's  aid  would  have  come  too  late  if  it 
had  not  been  for  a  million  and  a  quarter  of  India's 
picked  young  men  who  served — and  many  of  whom  died 
— for  the  great  cause  of  the  world.  From  all  over  India 
they  came,  sturdy  Marathas  from  the  West,  little  Gurk- 
has from  the  far  Northeast,  tall  Sikhs  from  the  Punjab, 
bearded  Mohammedans  from  the  United  Provinces, 
Christians  from  many  places.  For  the  most  part  they 
fought  well.  Some  of  them  fought  wonderfully  well, 
even  winning  the  most  coveted  of  all  British  war  dec- 
orations— the  Victoria  Cross.  Some  Indian  princes 
left  the  luxuries  of  their  Oriental  courts  and  themselves 
donned  khaki  and  fought  in  France.  Others  turned 
palaces  into  hospitals  and  gave  vast  sums  of  money. 
Indian  women  met  and  sewed  for  the  Red  Cross.  Even 


2  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

the  ragged  little  Indian  school  children  somehow  earned 
and  gave  money  for  the  starving  Belgian  children. 

Great  Britain  was  not  slow  to  show  her  gratitude  to 
India  for  this  priceless  aid.  Mr.  Montagu,  then  Secre- 
tary of  State  for  India,  announced  that  India  would 
be  given  increasing  control  of  her  own  affairs  until  her 
people  were  governing  themselves.  The  phrase  he  used 
to  describe  this  was  "the  progressive  realization  of  re- 
sponsible government."  Mr.  Montagu  came  to  India 
and  with  the  Viceroy  prepared  a  bold  and  able  plan  for 
giving  her  home  rule. 

But  Indian  leaders  had  come  to  understand  their 
power  through  the  War,  and  many  Indians  said,  "This 
plan  is  not  enough.  We  want  to  control  all  our  affairs 
at  once."  Immediately  after  the  War,  the  Moham- 
medans in  India  were  greatly  stirred  because  it  looked 
to  them  as  though  the  Allies  intended  to  destroy  the 
power  of  Turkey,  which  was  the  only  great  Moham- 
medan country  left  in  the  world.  For  this  and  other 
reasons,  there  has  been  unrest.  Rioting  has  broken  out 
here  and  there.  One  British  general,  in  order  to  stop 
the  rioting,  ruthlessly  shot  down  hundreds  of  Indians. 
After  an  investigation  by  a  Royal  Commission  he  was 
publicly  condemned  by  the  British  Government;  but 
the  Indians  feel  that  the  punishment  was  inadequate, 
and  the  resentment  remains.  Also,  the  Russian  Bolshe- 
vists have  been  working  against  the  British  in  the  north. 
They  cannot  send  armies  over  the  Khyber  Pass,  but 
they  have  been  sending  Bolshevist  teachers  to  try  to 
make  trouble.  India  is  no  quiet,  peaceful  place  today. 
It  is  pulsing  with  new  life. 

In  the  period  after  the  War  Mohandas  Gandhi  be- 


THE  MEETING   GKOTJND  OF  EAST  AND  WEST  43 

came  in  many  ways  the  most  interesting  figure  in  In- 
dia or,  for  that  matter,  in  the  whole  world.  He  is  a 
thin,  inconspicuous  little  man,  and  he  wears  the  coarsest 
and  simplest  of  Indian  clothing.  Yet  in  those  critical 
days  he  became  by  his  utter  fearlessness,  by  his  sheer 
devotion,  and  by  his  purity  of  character  the  acknowl- 
edged leader  in  all  India.  Millions  of  Indians,  espe- 
cially her  educated  young  men,  were  ready  to  follow 
him  anywhere.  They  called  him  Mahatma,5  "the  Great 
Souled  One,"  and  not  only  acclaimed  him  as  a  popu- 
lar hero,  but  worshipped  him  as  a  saint.  Probably  this 
Indian  leader  has  had  a  greater  influence  over  more 
people  than  any  other  living  man. 

Mahatma  Gandhi  does  not  believe  in  Western  ma- 
terial civilization,  and  he  does  not  want  to  see  India 
Westernized.  He  wants  her  people  to  remain  simple  in 
their  habits.  He  does  not  believe  in  the  government 
schools.  They  are  too  Western.  He  wants  an  Indian 
system  of  education.  He  believes  that  the  British  Gov- 
ernment has  done  great  wrongs  to  India,  but  he  tells 
his  followers  that  they  must  not  shed  blood  to  right 
these  wrongs.  Practically,  what  he  tells  them  to  do 
is  to  go  on  strike  against  the  Government  and  against 
everything  Western.  He  calls  his  doctrine  Satyagraha* 
or  "Soul  Force."  It  is  generally  spoken  of  in  English  as 
"non-cooperation."  "Don't  send  your  boys  to  a  Gov- 
ernment school.  Don't  vote.  Don't  serve  the  Govern- 
ment. Don't  wear  clothes  made  of  Western  cloth.  Re- 
vive your  old  hand-weaving  industry  and  your  old-time 
simple  life  in  every  village  and  city,"  he  says.  So  his 
followers  wear  coarse  homespun  clothing  and  the 

e  Ma-hat-ma,  "a"  as  in  far.  «  Suttya  graha. 


44  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

"Gandhi"  cap  made  of  a  simple  piece  of  rough  native 
cloth. 

In  November  of  1921,  while  the  Prince  of  Wales 
was  being  received  with  great  splendor  at  the  port  of 
Bombay,  Gandhi,  as  a  general  protest  against  his  visit, 
was  making  a  bonfire  of  Western  cloth  in  the  native 
city.  At  the  same  time,  rioting  broke  out  in  the  crowded 
parts  of  the  city.  Mobs  of  Hindus  and  Mohammedans 
attacked  police  stations,  street  cars,  and  automobiles. 
"No  one  who  did  not  wear  the  Gandhi  cap  was  safe  on 
the  streets  of  that  part  of  Bombay.  The  disorder  de- 
veloped into  a  race  riot  against  Parsis  and  Anglo-In- 
dians. Several  Parsis  and  Europeans  and  one  Ameri- 
can, as  well  as  many  of  the  rioters,  were  killed.  Gandhi 
was  heartbroken.  He  did  everything  he  could  to  dis- 
perse the  mobs  and  finally  resorted  to  a  typical  Indian 
device.  He  sent  out  word  that  he  would  not  eat  or 
drink  till  peace  was  restored.  And  peace  was  soon  re- 
stored, for  none  of  the  rioters  could  endure  the  reproach 
of  having  been  the  cause  of  the  death  of  their  great 
saint. 

This  mob  violence  in  Bombay  seemed,  for  a  time, 
to  convince  Mahatma  Gandhi  that  India  was  not 
•yet  ready  for  non-violent  non-cooperation.  The  day 
after  the  rioting,  he  issued  a  statement.  These  few  sen- 
tences from  it  show  its  spirit  of  true  penitence :  "We 
have  failed  when  we  ought  to  have  succeeded,  for  yester- 
day was  the  day  of  our  trial.  We  were  under  our  pledge 
bound  to  protect  the  person  of  the  Prince  from  any 
harm  or  insult.  And  we  broke  that  pledge  inasmuch 
as  any  one  of  us  insulted  or  injured  a  single  European 
or  any  other  who  took  part  in  the  welcome  to  the  Prince. 


THE  MEETING  GROUND  OF  EAST  AND  WEST  45 

They  were  as  much  entitled  to  take  part  in  the  welcome 
as  we  were  to  refrain.  Nor  can  I  shirk  my  own  per- 
sonal responsibility.  I  am  more  instrumental  than 
any  other  in  bringing  into  being  the  spirit  of  revolt.  I 
find  myself  not  fully  capable  of  controlling  and  dis- 
ciplining that  spirit.  I  must  do  penance  for  it.  ...  I 
have  personally  come  deliberately  to  the  conclusion  that 
mass  civil  disobedience  cannot  be  started  for  the  pres- 
ent." Yet  it  was  not  long  afterward  that  Gandhi  pre- 
sided over  the  Congress  which  advocated  civil  disobedi- 
ence. 

As  a  result,  another  terrible  outbreak  of  mob  violence 
occurred.  Once  more  Gandhi  expressed  deepest  repent- 
ance. Yet  even  then  he  did  not  repudiate  his  cam- 
paign to  overthrow  the  Government.  Finally,  on  March 
18,  1922,  after  a  trial  at  which  he  pleaded  guilty,  he 
was  convicted  of  conspiracy  to  overthrow  the  Govern- 
ment and  was  sentenced  to  six  years  of  imprisonment. 
In  sentencing  Mr.  Gandhi  the  judge  expressed  the  high- 
est admiration  for  his  personal  character  and  the  deep- 
est regret  that  he  was  compelled  to  find  him  guilty.  On 
his  side  Mr.  Gandhi  complimented  the  judge  on  the  fair- 
ness of  the  trial.  This  great-souled  ler'l^r  in  his  final 
message  to  his  followers  commanded  them  not  to  use 
violence  as  a  protest  against  his  imprisonment.  And 
no  violent  protest  occurred. 

As  a  politician,  Gandhi  made  what  he  himself  called 
"Himalayan  blunders"  which  have  done  measureless 
harm.  As  a  social  and  religious  leader,  he  has  done 
untold  good.  He  has  called  his  people  to  give  up  the 
use  of  all  liquor,  to  live  pure  lives,  to  recognize  the 
despised  outcastes  as  human  beings  and  fellow-citizens. 


46  INDIA    ON    THE    MAKCH 

He  honors  Christ.  Indeed,  he  receives  much  of  the  in- 
spiration for  his  work  from  Him.  He  has  been  a  won- 
derful influence  for  the  moral  uplift  of  India  and  for 
the  establishment  of  brotherhood  among  her  divided 
peoples. 

Gandhi's  great  failure  comes  from  his  indiscriminate 
rejection  of  everything  from  the  West.  In  this  he  is 
not  so  broad  or  so  human  as  Ram  Mohan  Roy.  He 
is  absolutely  right  in  wanting  India  to  keep  her  own 
distinctive  civilization,  but  he  has  not  succeeded,  and 
he  ought  not  to  succeed  in  his  boycott  of  everything 
Western,  even  Western  schools  and  hospitals. 

We  admire  him  and  other  Indian  leaders  for  their  in- 
dependence of  spirit,  for  their  refusal  to  join  the  world 
in  its  scramble  for  ease  and  luxury.  We  Westerners 
care  far  too  much  for  automobiles  and  movies  and  all 
sorts  of  mere  things.  Mr.  Gandhi  has  lived  as  a  cul- 
tured gentleman  while  wearing  the  coarsest  clothing 
and  eating  simplest  food.  He  has  not  wanted  to  see 
the  evils  of  our  big  factory  cities  spread  in  India,  and 
he  has  been  right  in  wanting  to  save  India  from  these 
things.  India  ought  to  stay  simple.  Jesus  lived  a  sim- 
ple, frugal  life.  Yet  men  like  Mr.  Gandhi  cannot  build 
a  Chinese  wall  around  India  and  keep  everything  West- 
ern out,  and,  what  is  more,  her  best  leaders  do  not  want 
to  do  such  a  foolish  thing.  For  her  own  sake  and  for 
the  sake  of  other  people,  she  must  remain  a  part  of  the 
modern  world. 

Many  of  India's  ablest  men,  like  the  Right  Honorable 
V.  S.  Shastri,  one  of  the  British  Empire's  seven  pleni- 
potentiaries at  the  Washington  Conference,  do  not  be- 
lieve in  non-cooperation  and  are  helping  to  make  Mr. 


THE  MEETING  GBOUND  OF  EAST  AND  WEST  4:7 

Montagu's  new  plan  of  home  rule  a  fair  success.  They 
seem  to  me  to  represent  the  truest  and  best  spirit  of 
modern  India.  They  believe  in  India  and  her  civiliza- 
tion, but  they  can  also  see  good  in  Britain  and  her 
civilization.  They  are  not  controlled  by  race  prejudice 
and  hatred,  but  are  working  toward  the  closer  coopera- 
tion of  West  and  East. 

Rabindranath  Tagore,  in  a  remarkable  article  on 
"The  Union  of  Cultures,"  directly  combats  Gandhi's 
principles.  Here  are  a  few  sentences  from  this  article : 
"By  their  present  separateness,  East  and  West  are  now 
in  danger  of  losing  the  fruits  of  their  age-long  labors. 
For  want  of  ...  union,  the  East  is  suffering  from 
poverty  and  inertia,  and  the  West,  from  lack  of  peace 
and  happiness.  .  .  .  Nothing  is  more  obvious  than  that 
the  nations  have  come  together,  yet  are  not  united.  The 
agony  of  this  presses  on  the  whole  world.  .  .  .  Slian- 
tam,7  Shivam,  Advaitam — "Unity  is  peace,  for  unity  is 
the  good."  It  is  the  dream  of  my  heart  that  the  culture 
centers  of  our  country  should  also  be  the  meeting  ground 
of  the  East  and  West."  8 

If  Indian  radicals  should  succeed  in  doing  away  with 
the  strong  British  rule  in  India  this  year  or  within  five 
years,  the  result  would  be  nothing  less  than  terrible 
chaos  and  bloodshed.  That  would  be  indeed  a  "Hima- 
layan blunder"  which  would  almost  destroy  their  own 
beloved  Motherland.  The  Moplah  riots  around  Calicut 
in  1921  are  a  hint  of  what  would  happen.  The  Moplahs 
are  fierce,  intolerant  Mohammedans.  Indian  agitators 
led  them  against  the  Government,  but  when  these  Mo- 
hammedans rose,  they  committed  atrocities  not  so  much 

t  Pronounce  "am"  as  "um."    «  The  Nation,  Calcutta,  Nov.,  1921. 


48  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

against  Europeans  as  against  their  Hindu  neighbors. 
They  forced  over  a  thousand  of  them  at  the  point  of 
the  sword  to  become  Mohammedans.  If  it  had  not  been 
for  the  British  military  power,  there  is  no  telling  how 
far  the  Moplahs  would  have  gone.  A  shrewd  Indian 
Mohammedan  has  said  that  if  the  British  power  were 
withdrawn,  his  fellow-Mohammedans  would  come 
swooping  down  on  India  from  the  northwest,  the  Mo- 
hammedans in  India  would  join  them,  and  rivers  of 
blood  would  flow.  India  is  still  too  ignorant  and  is 
divided  into  too  many  castes  and  races  and  religions; 
there  is  too  much  mutual  suspicion  and  hate  and  too 
little  public  spirit.  If  the  British  should  leave  tomor- 
row, rivers  of  blood  would  indeed  flow.  Millions  would 
starve  as  they  have  been  doing  in  Russia.  It  would  be 
a  terrible  calamity. 

When  we  picture  what  would  happen  in  India  today 
if  her  present  government  should  fail,  we  see  how  im- 
portant it  is  that  Indians  and  Englishmen  should  find 
a  way  of  working  together.  Where  shall  they  find  it  ? 
In  the  world-wide  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ.  Many  In- 
dians and  Englishmen  realize  this.  The  leaders  in  the 
great  task  of  bringing  the  two  races  together  are  found, 
for  the  most  part,  among  the  educated  Indians  who,  like 
Tagore,  have  strongly  felt  the  influence  of  Christ's 
spirit.  On  the  other  hand,  when  English  officials  are 
truly  Christian  in  spirit,  Indians  still  trust  them  and 
respond  to  them.  Missionaries  and  Indian  Christians 
have  a  wonderful  chance  to  show  both  sides  the  way 
out  of  the  present  crisis.  It  is  deeply  significant  that 
Jesus  was  born  in  Asia,  yet  in  a  part  of  Asia  which  had 


THE   MEETING  GROUND  OF  EAST  AND   WEST  49 

felt  the  currents  of  European  life.  He  is  the  Master  of 
all.  If  Westerners  and  Easterners  can  only  come  close 
to  Him,  their  suspicions  and  jealousies  will  melt  away, 
and  in  their  place  we  shall  have  mutual  trust  and  re- 
spect and  common  efforts  for  the  good  of  India  and  of 
the  world. 

The  East  needs  the  West,  and  the  West  needs  the 
East.  I  believe  that  in  the  end  they  are  not  going  to 
fight  in  India,  but  that  they  are  going  to  cooperate. 
Just  now  jealousies  are  keen  and  distrust  is  strong. 
Yet  the  leaders  of  the  great  middle  classes  still  look 
upon  the  British  rulers  as  their  friends.  In  general,  so 
do  native  princes,  the  merchants  and  land  owners,  the 
outcastes,  and  many  progressive  leaders.  The  final 
solution  of  the  whole  hard  problem  of  race  relationship 
is  to  be  found  in  Christian  brotherhood.  That  is  the 
Good  News  of  Christ  for  troubled  India  today. 


THAT  THEY  ALL  MAY  BE  ONE 

I  used  to  think  him  heathen, 

Just  because — well,  don't  you  see, 
He  didn't  speak  "God's  English," 

And  he  didn't  look  like  me ; 
He  had  a  burnt  complexion 

Which  is  heathen,  goodness  knows; 
He  ate  a  heathen's  rations, 

And  he  wore  a  heathen's  clothes. 
But  there's  a  s'prising  skinful 

In  that  bloke  from  far  away: 
He  fights  like  any  Christian, 

And  I've  caught  the  beggar  pray; 
He's  kind  to  little  kiddies, 

And  there's  written  in  his  eyes 
The  willingness  to  render 

All  a  Christian's  sacrifice. 
Yes,  you'd  know  him  for  a  heathen 

If  you  judged  him  by  the  hide ; 
But,  bless  you,  he's  my  brother, 

For  he's  just  like  me  inside. 

— Robert  Freeman 


Ill 

A  Village  Wrestler 

MOST  of  the  people  of  India  belong  to  the  respectable 
farmer  castes.  They  live  in  her  720,000  villages  where 
they  cultivate  their  fields  as  their  ancestors  have  done 
before  them,  generation  after  generation  for  a  thousand 
years.  They  are  hard-working  folk,  sturdy  and  withal 
attractive.  Today,  even  these  stolid  villagers  are  being 
awakened  from  their  age-long  sleep.  There  is  nothing 
more  interesting  in  India  than  the  way  that  these  people 
are  beginning  to  play  a  real  part  in  the  life  of  the  land. 
Once  I  was  suggesting  to  a  city  Brahman  that  the 
farmers  had  shrewd  opinions  which  every  leader  must 
respect.  "These  villagers  ?  What  are  they  ?  Stones !" 
was  his  contemptuous  reply.  To  their  cost,  the  high- 
caste  people  of  different  parts  of  the  country  are  find- 
ing that  the  middle  classes  are  not  stones.  They  are 
rousing  themselves  and  intend  to  play  their  part  in  the 
new  life  of  India.  Indeed  in  the  Madras  Presidency 
the  so-called  non-Brahman  party  now  controls  the  legis- 
lative council.  The  story  which  follows  seeks  to  show 
how  the  ferment  of  new  life  is  working  among  India's 
middle-class  millions. 


"Jail  jail  Appaji!1  Jail  jail  Appaji!"  The 
shouts  of  the  crowd  rose  from  the  river-bed  where  the 
village  fair  was  going  on.  Even  a  widow  at  work  in 
the  heart  of  the  neighboring  village  of  Nimbgaon  lis- 
tened eagerly. 

i  Ap-pa-jee. 

51 


52  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

"Wat!"  she  exclaimed.  "Vithoba  still  smiles  on 
our  village.  Our  Appaji  has  the  strength  of  an  elephant 
and  the  quickness  of  a  tiger.  Who  can  withstand  him !" 
And  she  paused  in  the  preparation  of  the  evening  meal. 
As  the  noise  drew  nearer,  she  left  her  little  windowless 
cook-room,  and  carefully  placed  herself  in  a  dark  corner 
near  the  open  door,  where  she  could  be  somewhat  shaded, 
yet  could  see  all  that  went  on  in  the  street. 

Soon  the  crowd  of  excited  villagers  came  surging  by. 
A  cloud  of  dust  rose  around  them.  The  gray,  window- 
less  walls  of  the  mud  houses  that  lined  the  narrow  street 
on  either  side  hemmed  them  in. 

"Jail  jail  Appaji !"  they  called  in  rhythmic  repeti- 
tion. In  the  center  of  the  crowd,  borne  aloft  on  the 
stout  shoulders  of  some  of  his  young  fellow-villagers, 
was  the  object  of  all  this  attention  the  broadly  smiling 
Appaji. 

Around  his  almost  bare  body  he  had  hastily  thrown  a 
dhoter,  or  long,  thin,  cotton  cloth,  which  did  not  conceal 
the  rippling  muscles  of  his  arms  and  chest.  There  was 
a  ruddy  look  of  health  about  his  face;  and  the  smile 
with  which  he  looked  around  him  was  a  most  attractive 
combination  of  amused  good  nature  and  honest  pride. 

No  wonder  the  women  of  the  village  smiled,  and 
the  boys  went  wild  with  excitement.  For  was  not  this 
their  own  Appaji  Bhosle  who  had  for  years  been  famed 
as  the  best  wrestler  in  all  the  region  ?  And  had  he  not 
just  now,  after  three  years  of  absence  from  all  wrestling 
matches,  defeated  the  champion  of  the  rival  village, 
Shingavi,  in  the  toughest  bout  of  his  career,  and  that 
at  their  own  yearly  yalm,  or  religious  fair  ? 

Most  conspicuous  in  all  the  crowd,  his  high,  clear  call 


A    VILLAGE    WRESTLER  53 

easily  heard  above  the  other  shouts,  was  a  ten-year-old 
boy  who  danced  along  beside  the  village  hero.  "Majya 
bapane  tiala  jinkile/'  he  called.  "My  father  beat  him ! 
My  father  beat  him !"  It  was  Jayavant,2  Appaji's  elder 
child;  and  when  the  crowd  reached  the  village  rest- 
house  and  set  Appaji  down,  the  little  boy  leaped  into 
his  father's  arms. 

In  the  meantime,  men  had  gone  bustling  about  to 
prepare  an  impromptu  celebration.  From  somewhere 
a  sweet-smelling  garland  of  roses  and  jasmine  was 
brought  and  placed  about  Appaji's  neck.  Attar  of  roses 
was  sprinkled  on  his  uparana,  or  long  scarf,  and  san- 
dalwood  paste  was  placed  on  the  back  of  his  hand. 

Appaji's  acknowledgment  was  brief  and  direct  as 
befitted  a  sturdy  Maratha  farmer.  "Friends,  I  thank 
you  for  honoring  me  thus.  I  am  glad  that  by  the  help 
of  God  I  was  able  to  uphold  the  honor  of  our  village. 
As  you  all  know,  I  have  been  giving  much  time  lately 
to  the  Satya  SJioddk  Samaj  3 — The  Society  of  the  Search 
for  Truth.  We  aim  to  bring  back  the  ancient  glory  of 
the  Maratha  name.  ]STo  need  to  remind  you  how  our 
Shivaji  and  our  other  heroes  conquered  much  of  India. 
They  had  Tukaram  and  Ramdas,  the  saints,  as  well 
as  Shivaji,  the  warrior,  in  those  days. 

"If  we  want  to  regain  our  ancient  name,  we  must 
keep  up  our  ancient  sports ;  but  we  too  must  once  more 
worship  God  as  Shivaji  did, — and  we  must  send  our 
boys  to  school.  How  else  can  we  free  ourselves  from 
our  slavery  to  the  clever  Brahman  officials  and  the  slip- 
pery money  lender  ?  I  tell  you  that  the  English  Sirkar 
(Government)  means  well  by  us.  It  is  the  under  offi- 

2  Jay-vunt.  3  Suttyii  Shodak  Sum-ma  j. 


54  INDIA    ON    THE    MAEOH 

cials  of  our  own  land  who  keep  us  down.  Let  jus  start 
a  school  for  our  hoys !" 

When  he  had  finished,  the  crowd  was  silent.  Then 
the  gray-haired  village  patil  (headman)  replied:  "Ap- 
paji,  thou  hast  spoken  well.  Let  us  start  a  school. 
Then  will  our  village  not  be  helpless  in  the  hands  of  the 
Brahmans  and  the  money  lenders  like  a  lamb  caught 
by  two  wolves,  and  we  may  regain  our  ancient  glory. 
In  speaking  to  us  thus,  thou  hast  done  us  a  greater 
service  than  by  winning  the  wrestling  match.  "What 
say  you?  Shall  we  ask  the  Government  for  a  school? 
Or  shall  we  go  to  the  missionary  ?" 

"The  missionary  sahib  lives  near  at  hand,"  replied 
Appaji.  "He  speaks  our  language  and  knows  our  ways. 
He  is  our  friend.  Moreover,  he  will  teach  our  boys,  not 
only  to  read  and  figure,  but  to  keep  strong  speak  truth, 
and  to  worship  God.  I  give  my  opinion  for  asking  him." 

A  general  murmur  of  approval  came  from  the  crowd 
of  men  who  were  sitting  about  the  rest-house* 

The  "missionary  sahib"  was  the  Rev.  John  Greyson, 
well  known  far  and  wide  as  the  people's  friend.  Sev- 
eral who  were  sitting  there  owed  their  lives  to  the  relief 
work  he  had  superintended  in  the  terrible  famine  days 
of  1900.  So  it  was  decided  that  they  should  ask  him  for 
a  school. 

Appaji  did  not  let  the  interest  in  the  village  school 
grow  cold.  He  had  attended  a  big  convention  of  his 
fellow-Marathas  three  years  before  which  had  opened 
his  eyes  to  his  people's  need  of  education.  Ever  since 
then,  he  had  been  trying  to  have  a  school  started  in  his 
village,  but  up  to  this  time  no  one  had  shown  much  in- 
terest in  his  project.  Now  the  patil,  another  leader, 


A   VILLAGE   WBESTLEE  55 

and  he  went  to  the  near-by  village  of  Chinchore,  where 
the  missionary  lived,  to  make  their  request.  All  prom- 
ised help  toward  the  teacher's  salary.  Appaji  him- 
self offered  to  lend  a  rude  farm  building  for  the  use 
of  the  school  at  the  start.  There  were  many  other  vil- 
lages that  were  asking  the  missionary  for  schools,  and 
in  the  last  analysis,  it  was  the  earnestness  and  sincerity 
of  Appaji  himself  that  finally  decided  Mr.  Grey  son  to 
fiend  a  teacher  to  Nimbgaon. 

Not  long  after  Appaji's  little  son,  Jayavant,  had  be- 
gun his  first  lessons,  news  of  far  greater  events  than 
wrestling  matches  reached  Nimbgaon.  One  evening 
Gangaramji,  the  new  teacher,  brought  his  weekly  news- 
paper to  the  village  square  and  read  how  the  English 
Sirkar  had  entered  the  World  War.  Soon  rumors 
came  that  the  Government  was  asking  for  new  recruits 
for  the  Maratha  regiments,  then,  that  some  of  the  In- 
dian army  had  actually  gone  over  the  "black  water"  to 
fight.  No  one  was  more  eager  for  the  news  than  Appaji. 
No  one  seemed  to  think  so  much  about  it.  Gangaramji 
was  surprised  one  day  to  have  him  say,  "Why  should 
not  I  go  ?  I  am  young  and  strong.  Always  my  ances- 
tors responded  to  the  appeal  to  arms.  The  British 
Sirkar  is  just  and  good.  Will  it  not  help  us  Marathas 
to  regain  our  ancient  honor  if  we  do  our  part  ?" 

"But  how  about  Jayavant  and  little  Tara  and  the 
rest  of  your  family,  Appaji?"  said  the  teacher.  Eti- 
quette forbade  his  mentioning  Appaji's  wife  by  name, 
yet  he  was  sure  that  a  real  affection  existed  between  the 
big  villager  and  Sitabai,  his  wife. 

A  shadow  passed  over  Appaji's  face.  Nevertheless, 
his  reply  was  clear  and  simple.  "They  will  lack  for 


56  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

nothing.  We  have  fields  and  gardens.  My  older  brother, 
Balavant,  is  in  charge  of  the  family  affairs.  He  will 
look  out  for  them.  You  will  give  Jayavant  especial 
care,  will  you  not  ?" 

"Yes,  I  promise  you  that  I  will,"  answered  Ganga- 
ramji. 

So  in  the  cool  dawn  of  a  winter  day,  Appaji  and  a 
little  group  of  fellow-recruits  tramped  away  to  the 
training  camp  in  Poona.  The  good-bys  to  his  wife  and 
little  daughter  were  said  at  home,  but  Jayavant  ran 
along  beside  his  father.  Indeed,  most  of  the  men  of  the 
village  came  some  distance  to  "start  them  on  their  path." 

In  a  few  days  the  post-runner  brought  Appaji's  first 
letter.  It  was  addressed  in  a  scrawling  hand  to  Jaya- 
vant, and  G-angaramji,  who  was  postmaster  as  well  as 
teacher,  read  it  first  to  the  family  and  later  to  the  vil- 
lagers. It  was  simple  and  brief,  giving  a  glimpse  of  the 
busy  life  of  the  training  camp  and  bringing  his  greetings 
to  his  fellow-villagers  and  the  members  of  his  family. 

Great  was  the  stir  caused  in  the  village  by  the  receipt 
of  this  letter.  It  was  gravely  discussed  by  the  village 
fathers.  The  women  talked  about  it  next  morning  as 
they  gathered  around  the  village  well  with  their  big, 
brass  water- jars  to  get  the  morning  supply  of  water. 
The  old  patil  summed  it  up  when  he  said:  "A  great 
man  is  our  Appaji!  See  how  he  has  learned  with  his 
own  hand  to  write  a  letter !  His  thought  is  always  for 
the  honor  of  our  village  and  the  good  of  our  people. 
May  Vithoba  and  all  the  gods  guard  him  Hey,  Vish- 
vanath,  wilt  say  mantras  for  his  safety?" 

"Yea,"  said  Vishvanath,  "tomorrow  they  shall  be 
said." 


A    VILLAGE    WRESTLER  57 

!Now  Vishvanath  was  the  village  Brahman,  and  he 
loved  Appaji  not  at  all,  for  that  doughty  wrestler  had 
dared  openly  to  challenge  the  right  of  the  Brahmans 
to  control  the  life  of  the  village.  He  dared  not,  how- 
ever, do  anything  hut  say  yes.  Indeed,  he  was  very 
glad  to  receive  the  two-anna  piece  which  the  headman 
unknotted  from  his  waist  and  handed  to  him. 

Other  letters  from  Appaji  followed,  in  one  of  which 
he  told  of  heing  made  a  petty  officer.  Then  came  one 
in  which  he  said:  "We  go  tonight.  Take  care  of 
Tara.  All  thought  of  her  marriage  must  await  my  re- 
turn. Let  her  go  to  school.  Remember  to  guard  the 
honor  of  the  Bhosle  name." 

Long  weeks  elapsed  before  the  next  word  came,  this 
time  from  Basra,  port  of  entry  of  Mesopotamia.  It 
reflected  graphically  the  terror  of  the  sea  to  the  simple 
Indian  countrymen.  "In  a  great  boat,"  he  wrote,  "we 
went  out  over  the  black  waters,  broad  as  the  sky.  Soon 
we  could  see  Mumbai  (Bombay)  no  more.  Then  the 
mountains  disappeared.  The  waters  rose  up  and  tossed 
our  boat  as  I  used  to  toss  thee  in  our  play.  There  lay 
we  all,  sick  as  children  who  had  eaten  green  mangoes. 
We  said  one  to  another  that  we  should  never  again  see 
our  homes,  for  the  boat  was  lost  in  the  great  black 
water  with  no  land  anywhere  about  us,  only  the  angry 
waves.  Then  our  Kaptan  took  one  or  two  of  us  to  the 
back  of  the  boat  and  showed  us  a  white  path  stretching 
back  from  the  center  of  the  boat.  'Does  that  path  go 
all  the  way  to  Mumbai?'  we  asked.  'Surely  it  does,' 
he  answered,  'and  when  the  war  is  done,  over  that  path 
shall  a  great  boat  like  this  bear  you  back.'  Then  were 
we  assured  that  we  should  return  to  our  homes.  For 


58  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

truly  I  had  thought  that  we  were  lost  in  the  waste  of 
water  and  never  again  should  I  see  thee  or  set  foot  in 
Nimbgaon." 

Further  letters  told  of  fierce  fighting  in  the  Euphrates 
valley,  where  even  Indian  troops  wilted  under  the  fur- 
nace heat. 

Sitabai  went  often  to  the  village  shrine  to  pray  for 
her  husband.  Finally,  in  a  big  official  envelope  came 
the  word  that  all  had  dreaded.  Appaji  was  seriously 
wounded.  He  had  been  in  a  fierce  engagement  in  cross- 
ing a  river  where  Turkish  machine  guns  were  playing 
relentlessly  on  them  from  the  opposite  bank.  Two  at- 
tempts to  throw  over  a  pontoon  bridge  had  failed.  A 
third  was  on  the  point  of  succeeding.  Appaji  and  his 
platoon  had  been  ordered  to  be  the  first  to  cross  to  at- 
tack the  machine  guns.  Then  the  last  of  the  engineer- 
ing squad  fell,  leaving  the  bridge  incomplete  and  use- 
less. Appaji  saw  the  crisis,  ran  through  a  stream  of 
bullets  to  the  incompleted  section  and,  single  handed, 
by  sheer  strength,  coolness,  and  courage,  repaired  the 
frail  bridge.  His  platoon  rushed  forward,  enough  of 
them  gaining  the  opposite  bank  to  establish  a  bridge 
head.  Night  brought  reinforcements,  and  the  enemy 
were  beaten  back.  But  Appaji  was  found  lying  with  one 
leg  broken  and  two  bullet  wounds  in  his  body.  The 
letter  went  on  to  say  that,  in  token  of  the  gratitude  of 
the  Empire  for  his  bravery,  his  commander  would  rec- 
ommend that  he  be  awarded  a  decoration  and  receive  a 
grant  of  land  lying  near  Nimbgaon  to  be  handed  down 
as  an  inam  or  hereditary  estate  from  generation  to 
generation  in  his  line  forever.  Appaji  was  in  a  hospital 
in  critical  condition,  but  with  good  hope  of  recovery, 


A   VILLAGE    WEESTLEE  59 

and  when  strong  enough,  he  was  to  be  sent  back  to  India, 

After  a  time  news  came  from  a  hospital  in  Bombay 
that  he  had  arrived  there.  Then,  one  day,  the  post- 
runner  brought  the  longed-for  word  that  he  had  been 
allowed  to  leave  the  hospital  and  would  reach  the  rail- 
road station  of  Ahmednagar  next  morning. 

"Khandoba  has  blessed  us.  He  is  coming  home," 
said  Sitabai  with  trembling  voice. 

As  soon  as  possible,  Balavantrao  and  Jayavant 
started  in  a  bullock  cart  for  the  thirty-mile  journey, 
and  they  were  at  the  station  when  the  train  came  in. 
At  first  they  did  not  recognize  the  thin  soldier  with  the 
large  khaki-colored  turban.  But  in  a  moment,  Jayavant 
rushed  forward,  calling,  "Bapa !  Bapa !"  tears  running 
down  his  cheeks  in  sheer  joy  at  seeing  the  father  who 
was  also  his  hero. 

Two  long  years  had  passed  since  Appaji  had  seen 
his  boy.  He  held  him  at  arms'  length,  and  the  look 
of  love  and  pride  deepened  in  his  eyes  as  he  saw  what 
a  fine,  tall  lad  Jayavant  had  grown  to  be. 

"How  far  have  you  got  in  school  ?"  he  asked. 

"I'm  just  finishing  the  third  book.  Gangaramji  says 
that  I  should  now  go  on  to  Chinchore  to  the  mission 
boarding-school,  but  the  family  does  not  want  to  send 
me." 

"We'll  arrange  all  that,"  said  Appaji.  "How  are 
your  mother  and  little  Tara  ?" 

"All  well.  Mother  can  eat  nothing  since  your  mes- 
sage came.  She  thinks  only  of  your  coming,"  said  Jaya- 
vant. "Tara  can  read  and  write  and  has  taught  mother 
a  little,  too." 

Soon  they  were  seated  in  the  crude,  joggling,  two- 


60  INDIA    OTT    THE    MARCH 

wheeled  cart  and  had  started  on  the  slow  journey  to 
Nimbgaon.  As  they  went,  Balavantrao  told  the  news 
of  village  and  household, — the  death  of  the  patil,  the 
dispute  as  to  whose  right  it  was  to  succeed  him,  and 
the  consequent  reopening  of  an  old  village  feud,  the 
growth  of  the  progressive  Satya  Shodak  Samaj  in  which 
Appaji  had  teen  so  much  interested,  and  the  attempts 
of  the  village  Brahman  to  prevent  it,  the  fierce  sudden 
hailstorm  which  had  come,  as  it  sometimes  will  in 
India,  beating  down  the  growing  sugar-cane  in  their 
mala,  or  irrigated  garden,  and  a  thousand  other  pieces 
of  local  news  of  intense  interest  to  the  returning  soldier. 
Part  of  the  way  Appaji  slept,  but  as  the  cart  reached 
an  eminence  a  few  miles  from  his  village,  he  looked 
lovingly  forward  to  the  patch  of  green  trees  in  the  midst 
of  the  plain  that  marked  the  site  of  Nimbgaon,  its  only 
two-storied  house — their  ancestral  home — thrusting  up 
a  bit  of  gray  in  the  midst  of  the  green. 

Half  a  mile  from  the  village,  the  picturesque  native 
band  of  five  players  met  the  travelers,  and  for  the  rest 
of  the  journey,  they  went  in  slow  procession  heralded  by 
its  wild,  weird  music.  The  welcome  in  the  village 
square,  with  garlands  and  speeches,  was  indeed  a  warm 
one.  ISTimbgaon  had  been  proud  of  Appaji  the  wrestler, 
but  her  pride  in  Appaji  the  war  hero  was  far  deeper. 

Then  came  the  quiet  home  coming,  sweet  little  Tara 
hugging  her  father  close,  and  all  the  household  crowd- 
ing around.  While  others  were  about,  Sitabai  contented 
herself  with  ministering  to  Appaji's  tired  body;  ar- 
ranging a  comfortable  place  for  him  to  recline,  bringing 
him  a  drink,  watching  him  with  eager  love.  But  when 
each  little  family  in  the  larger  joint  family  group  had 


A    VILLAGE    WRESTLER  61 

retired  to  its  own  section  of  the  home,  she  restrained 
herself  no  longer,  but  even  as  she  busied  herself  about 
the  preparation  of  dinner,  poured  out  truly  Oriental 
expressions  of  love  and  care.  Appaji  responded  and 
settled  back  in  the  little  dark  room  in  restfulness  and 
utter  contentment. 

It  is  hard  for  us  dwellers  in  a  new  country  to  appre- 
ciate what  the  village  of  his  ancestors-  and  of  his  own 
birth  means  to  an  Indian.  All  the  principal  interests 
of  his  life  center  here.  The  doctors  had  been  right  in 
thinking  that  what  Appaji  most  needed  now  to  complete 
his  recovery  was  to  come  back  to  his  home. 

In  a  few  weeks  came  the  problem  of  Jayavant's  edu- 
cation. He  had  finished  the  village  school.  Ganga- 
ramji  urged  Appaji  to  send  him  on  to  the  boarding- 
school  at  Chinchore.  Sitabai  was  fearful.  Most  of  the 
women  and  the  older  men  opposed  such  an  innovation. 
Vishvanath  the  Brahman  denounced  the  move.  Jaya- 
vant  would  lose  caste  in  the  Christian  school,  he  said. 
His  companions  would  be  Christians  from  among  the 
despised  outcastes.  His  manners  would  be  corrupted. 
"Who  knows  but  that  he  may  himself  turn  Christian  ?" 
But  the  father  was  firm  as  a  rock.  The  boy  was  to  go 
to  the  Chinchore  school.  This  school  has  a  special  hostel 
for  Maratha  boys.  He  could  eat  food  cooked  by 
his  fellow-castemen  and  could  thus  observe  the  funda- 
mental rules  of  caste.  But  he  could  study  and  play  with 
the  Christian  boys.  So  one  fine  day  Jayavant  went  off 
to  Chinchore  to  school. 

At  first  all  seemed  strange  enough,  and  the  Maratha 
lad  was  shy.  But  it  doesn't  take  boys  long  to  break 
through  artificial  barriers.  Jayavant  inherited  his 


62  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

father's  love  of  all  games.  His  dearest  ambition  was 
to  be  a  great  wrestler,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  was 
in  demand  for  games  of  atia  patia  and  ball,  while  he 
easily  vanquished  even  larger  boys  in  kusti — the  wres- 
tling match — which  has,  in  the  life  of  Indians,  the  place 
which  football  holds  with  American  students.  His  mind 
was  keen,  too,  and  he  did  well  at  his  lessons. 

In  the  beginning,  Jayavant  didn't  know  what  to  make 
of  the  quiet  Sundays  with  the  service  in  the  big  church ; 
but  he  liked  the  singing.  He  asked:  "Where  is  your 
Christian  God  ?  I  want  to  see  his  image.  This  is  his 
temple,  isn't  it  ?"  It  took  him  a  long  time  to  think  that 
it  was  worship  at  all  to  sit  on  a  bench  in  a  big  building 
and  sing  and  listen  to  a  sermon  and  to  close  one's  eyes 
while  the  minister  offered  a  prayer.  The  worship  that 
he  had  known  had  been  to  bow  and  leave  his  little  tribute 
of  flowers  or  coin  on  the  threshold  of  a  dark  shrine, 
from  the  opposite  wall  of  which  glistened  and  gleamed 
the  hideous  features  of  a  little  stone  idol.  One  of  the 
young  teachers  soon  became  the  boy's  fast  friend  and 
talked  it  all  over  with  him. 

"Why  don't  you  have  a  shrine  and  an  image  ?"  asked 
Jayavant. 

"Because  God  is  everywhere,  like  the  sunlight,  and 
is  so  great  and  good  that  we  dare  not  try  to  picture  Him 
as  an  ugly  little  image,"  the  teacher  answered.  "All 
we  need  to  do  is  to  think  about  Him  and  speak  to  Him 
wherever  we  are.  He  is  always  ready  to  answer  us  and 
help  us." 

Gradually  Jayavant  came  to  understand  and  enter 
into  Christian  worship.  In  school,  too,  he  was  studying 
the  Bible  and  came  to  admire  some  of  the  men  and 


A    VILLAGE    WEESTLEE  63 

women  and  boys  and  girls  that  it  told  about.  When  he 
went  home  for  his  first  vacation,  he  had  many  questions 
to  ask  of  his  father. 

"My  boy,"  said  Appaji,  "I  have  been  talking  much 
with  Gangaramji  about  this  Christian  religion.  Long 
have  I  felt  that  something  was  the  matter  with  our  vil- 
lage faith.  I  have  thought  that  perhaps  it  was  because 
our  Brahman  was  a  small,  greedy  man;  but  while  I 
have  been  away,  I  have  come  to  feel  that  the  trouble 
is  with  our  religion  itself.  It  keeps  us  apart  from  each 
other  in  different  castes.  It  doesn't  even  let  the  Mahars 
(outcastes)  into  the  temples.  Yet  over  there  I  saw  a 
Mahar  driver  save  the  life  of  my  friend  Manoharrao. 
The  Christians  say  that  all  men  are  brothers.  They 
are  not  always  afraid  that  they  have  offended  their  God. 
They  say  He  loves  them.  Study  their  Shastras  (Scrip- 
tures) well  and  tell  me  all  you  learn." 

And  whenever  he  came  home,  Jayavant  did  tell  his 
father  the  Bible  stories  he  had  learned.  He  read  to 
him  from  the  Gospel  of  Mark,  which  had  been  given 
him  in  school,  and  Appaji  thought  long  and  deeply  on 
all  these  things. 

Three  years  passed,  and  Jayavant  was  a  strapping 
fellow  of  fifteen.  He  was  still  in  the  boarding-school 
at  Chinchore,  where  he  was  now  a  leader  in  sports  and 
in  all  the  school  life.  A  movement  was  taking  place 
among  the  older  boys.  Easter  was  approaching,  and  a 
class  had  been  formed  for  those  who  wanted  to  join  the 
church.  Jayavant's  most  intimate  friend  in  school  was 
Vithal,  son  of  a  Hindu  holy  man  and  grandson  of  the 
man  who  had  been  the  most  bitter  opponent  of  the  com- 
ing in  of  Christianity  in  all  that  region.  Vithal  was 


64  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

in  the  class  and  had  felt  the  call  to  become  a  Christian. 
Jayavant  was  also  a  member  of  the  class  and  was  stirred 
by  that  great  sacred  impulse  that  comes  to  most  boys 
at  about  his  age.  It  impelled  him  to  come  out  boldly 
as  a  follower  of  Jesus. 

The  World  War  was  over  and  had  brought  to  India 
an  intense  patriotism  such  as  she  had  never  known  be- 
fore. Jayavant  was  his  father's  son  and  shared  to  the 
full  this  love  for  his  Motherland.  This  only  deepened 
his  love  for  Christ,  whom  he  had  come  to  look  upon  as 
the  only  possible  Saviour  of  his  country. 

But  the  obstacles  in  the  boy's  way  were  staggering. 
He  had  realized  this  more  and  more  clearly  when  he 
had  gone  home  for  vacations.  !N"ever  a  month  passed 
without  some  ceremony  in  which  he  was  expected  to 
take  part  which  involved  worship  of  the  idol  and  old 
superstition.  His  uncle  could  not  build  a  well  without 
having  the  Brahman  say  mantras  over  it.  Hinduism 
was  woven  into  the  very  fabric  of  his  family  life. 

This  was  not  all.  If  he  was  baptized  with  the  other 
boys,  he  would  be  an  outcaste.  Even  his  father  and 
mother  and  little  sister  could  no  longer  eat  with  him. 
His  grandmother  and  his  uncles,  whom  he  loved,  would 
regard  him  as  a  traitor  to  the  family  name.  He  would 
bring  disgrace  to  them  all.  Quite  likely  no  young  man 
of  good  family  and  situation  would  be  willing  to  marry 
his  sister.  It  seemed  to  him  that  it  meant  pulling  his 
life  up  by  the  roots.  "It  would  be  easier  to  die,"  he 
said  to  Vithal,  the  son  of  the  holy  man. 

"Yes,"  Vithal  replied;  "it  would  be  easier,  but  we 
aren't  here  to  take  the  easy  way.  We  must  be  loyal  to 
our  Master  and  to  our  Motherland." 


A    VILLAGE    WRESTLER  65 

About  two  weeks  before  Easter,  Jayavant  surprised 
the  missionary  "sahib"  by  asking  for  three-days'  leave  to 
go  home.  "I  want  to  join  the  church  on  Easter  Sunday, 
but  I  can't  do  it  without  talking  it  over  with  my  father 
and  mother,"  he  said. 

So  it  happened  that  Appaji,  who  was  working  in  a 
field  beside  the  road  that  afternoon,  heard  a  familiar 
voice  call,  "Are,  Bapa !"  and  looked  up  from  his  plow 
to  see  Jayavant  running  toward  him.  His  face  lit  up 
with  love  and  pride  as  he  watched  his  tall  son  come 
nearer,  yet  there  was  lurking  in  his  eyes  an  anxiety, 
almost  a  fear,  that  had  often  been  there  during  the  last 
year  when  he  thought  of  Jayavant.  Warm  indeed  was 
the  greeting  of  father  and  son,  between  whom  existed  a 
comradeship  unusual  in  the  Orient. 

"The  sight  of  thee  is  like  that  of  the  new  grass  which 
springs  up  after  the  first  rain.  Come  and  sit  under  the 
big  mango  tree  and  tell  me  of  thy  school  and  what  bring- 
eth  thee  home  at  this  time,"  he  said.  So  they  walked 
over  to  the  great  tree  exchanging  news  of  school  and 
village. 

When  they  were  seated  in  the  quiet  nook,  Appaji 
turned  to  Jayavant.  He  had  seen  the  traces  of  struggle 
in  the  boy's  eyes  and  in  his  manner.  "My  boy,  what 
is  it  ?"  he  said. 

"Father,  why  didst  thou  send  me  to  a  Christian 
school  ?"  he  asked. 

Appaji  saw  in  a  flash  what  he  meant.  His  fears 
had  come  true.  He  himself  had  come  to  believe  in 
Christ  as  a  great  Guru,  or  Master,  and  even  as  an 
Avatar,  or  incarnation  of  God.  He  rebelled  at  much  in 
Hinduism,  especially  against  Brahman  domination;  but 


66  INDIA   ON    THE    MARCH 

with  the  easy  tolerance  of  the  Indian  mind,  he  thought 
to  retain  the  old  while  also  accepting  the  new.  He  was 
not  prepared  to  brave  social  ostracism  and  hreak  from 
all  the  life  which  he  held  so  dear  by  seeking  Christian 
baptism. 

"I  sent  you  there  because  it  is  a  good  school  that 
teaches  boys  to  speak  truth  and  keep  clean  as  well  as 
to  read  and  figure.  Why  do  you  ask  ?"  he  said. 

"Next  Sunday  Vithal  and  other  boys  are  going  to 
be  baptised,"  Jayavant  replied. 

"And  thou  wishest  to  join  them  ?"  asked  Appaji. 

"For  weeks  the  thought  of  it  has  been  with  me," 
said  Jayavant.  "Sometimes  it  has  been  as  a  ball  of  fire 
in  my  stomach.  When  Vithal,  my  friend,  decided,  I 
went  off  into  the  field  alone  to  pray  and  think  it  over. 
Then  there  came  to  me,  as  it  were,  a  message  from 
heaven  saying,  Tear  not,  I  will  be  with  thee.'  And 
I  knew  that  He  was  calling  me  to  brave  every  difficulty 
and  be  baptised.  So  I  asked  raza 4  (leave)  and  here 
I  am." 

Appaji  was  silent  for  a  long  time.  Then  he  said, 
"If  thou  dost  this  thing,  thou  canst  never  again  live 
in  our  home  or  eat  with  us.  No  girl  of  our  caste  will 
marry  thee.  Thou  wilt  become  an  outcaste.  Disgrace 
will  come  upon  all  our  house.  Hast  thou  thought  of 
all  this?" 

"Yes,  I  have  thought  of  it.  Worst  of  all,  Bapa,  I 
cannot  be  near  thee."  Jayavant  could  say  no  more  for 
a  long  time.  Great  sobs  shook  him.  Finally  he  added, 
"What  will  mother  think — and  Balavant  kaka  (Uncle 
Balavant)  ?" 

*  Huzza. 


A   VILLAGE    WBESTLEE  67 

Appaji  was  no  less  deeply  moved.  At  length  he  re- 
plied, "God  knows  what  they  will  say  or  do.  As  for 
me,  I  have  feared  this.  It  has  been  as  a  heavy  burden 
on  my  head  all  the  time.  Yet  I  will  not  command  thee 
not  to  do  it.  If  I  thought  right  to  risk  my  life  for 
the  Sirkar,  why  should  not  my  son  risk  life  and  more 
for  his  Master  and  his  Motherland  ?"  He  laid  his  arm 
across  Jayavant's  shoulder  and  said  earnestly,  "We 
shall  have  a  hard  time  at  home  tonight.  Let  us  pray 
God  to  strengthen  us  both."  There  in  the  field  they 
prayed,  Jayavant  leading  in  earnest,  simple  words. 
Then  they  walked  to  the  village  and  through  the  massive 
gate  in  the  bastioned  wall,  built  in  the  old  days  to  keep 
out  the  robber  bands,  through  the  gray  village  street 
to  their  own  home.  The  cattle  had  just  come  from 
the  common  pasture  and  jostled  them  in  the  street. 
They  met  the  village  patil  who  gave  Jayavant  a  warm 
greeting.  Every  familiar  sight  and  sound  of  the  village 
seemed  peculiarly  dear  to  the  boy,  and  he  realized  with 
fresh  force  what  it  was  going  to  mean  to  give  up  the 
old  life. 

That  evening,  with  the  men  of  the  household  gathered 
together,  sitting  cross-legged  in  a  circle,  and  the  women 
hovering  in  doorways  behind,  Jayavant  told  of  his  de- 
cision. A  shriek  from  his  grandmother  interrupted  the 
story.  She  came  before  him  in  threatening  attitude. 

"What  sayest  thou,  Jayavant?  Dost  thou  mean  to 
tell  us  that  thou  wilt  go  into  the  Christian  church  and 
let  the  Christian  pastor  defile  thee  and  make  an  out- 
caste  of  thee  ?" 

"Yes,  Aji  (grandmother),"  said  Jayavant,  for  he 
knew  that  further  reply  was  useless. 


68  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

"And  art  thou,  Appa,  going  to  allow  Jayavant  to  drag 
our  fair  name  in  the  mire  by  his  foolhardy  childish 
act?"  she  said,  turning  fiercely  to  Appaji. 

"The  boy  has  received  a  command  from  God  to  do 
this  thing,  and  I  may  not  stand  in  his  way,"  replied 
Appaji. 

•Shriek  upon  shriek  from  the  old  grandmother  greeted 
this  statement,  and  in  these  she  was  joined  by  the  other 
women. 

"Are!  Did  I  bear  Appa  for  this, — that  he  should 
blacken  all  our  faces !  Where  will  my  granddaughters 
find  husbands  when  our  friends  know  what  has  come  in 
our  household !  "Why  are  the  gods  thus  angry  with  us ! 
As  for  me,  I  swear  that  the  day  he  does  this  thing,  that 
day  I  cast  myself  into  the  well." 

When  exhaustion  brought  comparative  quiet,  Bala- 
vantrao  spoke.  As  oldest  brother  and  head  of  the  joint 
family,  he  had  large  authority  in  all  important  family 
affairs.  "Mother,  be  silent!"  he  said.  "Jayavant,  I 
command  thee  to  give  up  this  silly  idea.  Better  that 
thou  cast  thyself  into  the  well  and  drown,  than  that 
thou  shouldest  do  such  a  thing.  I  warn  thee  that  we 
shall  not  allow  it."  A  murmur  of  assent  went  around 
the  circle. 

"Uncle,  I  cannot  give  it  up,"  cried  Jayavant. 

After  an  hour  of  futile  discussion,  the  family  council 
broke  up  in  bitter  anger  against  Jayavant  and  Appaji. 
Worst  of  all  for  the  boy  were  the  tears  and  reproaches 
of  his  own  mother,  when  they  went  back  into  their  own 
rooms.  It  was  indeed  a  terrible  ordeal  for  a  boy  who 
loved  his  home  and  people  as  Jayavant  did. 

The  nights  were  warm,  and  the  men  and  boys  slept 


A  Muratha  trooper  from  Appaji's  country  fording  a  stream 
in  the  Mcsopotamhm  campaign — and  incidentally  furnishing  trans- 
port for  a  kid  while  its  mother  looks  on  with  grave  concern. 


A    VILLAGE    WRESTLER  69 

in  the  open  courtyard  of  the  house.  Before  they  went 
to  sleep,  Appaji  said  in  quick,  low  tones,  "My  boy,  your 
Uncle  Balavant  and  your  grandmother  are  very  an- 
gry. They  may  try  to  kidnap  you  or  even  poison  you. 
Before  daylight  you  must  be  gone.  And  do  not  stay 
in  Chinchore.  Tell  the  sahib  to  send  you  away  some- 
where for  a  time,  until  their  anger  grows  cold."  Long 
before  dawn,  accordingly,  Jayavant  was  on  his  way  back 
to  Chinchore,  with  a  hearty  Godspeed  from  his  father, 
Appaji. 

Again  excitement  reigned  when  the  family  awoke 
next  day  and  found  Jayavant  gone.  It  was  soon  ar- 
ranged that  the  uncles  should  follow  and  demand  the 
boy  from  the  missionary  sahib.  "Thou  shalt  come  with 
us,  too,  Appaji,  and  shalt  assent  to  our  demand,"  said 
Balavantrao.  Much  to  Appaji's  disgust,  Balavantrao 
also  invited  Vishvanath,  the  village  Brahman.  But 
when  they  arrived  in  Chinchore,  they  did  not  find  Jay- 
avant there,  and  no  amount  of  angry  demands  from  the 
uncles  could  discover  where  he  had  gone.  ( 

Easter  Sunday  came  and  went.  Appaji's  thoughts 
were  far  away,  wondering  about  his  son,  where  he  was, 
whether  he  had  taken  the  final  irrevocable  step,  and, 
most  of  all,  whether  he  too  should  not  take  his  stand  be- 
side his  plucky  boy.  Some  days  later,  Gangaramji 
handed  Appaji  a  letter.  He  could  scarcely  wait  to  open 
it.  Jayavant  wrote  that  he  had  arrived  in  Chinchore 
just  in  time  to  be  sent  on  with  a  bullock  cart  to  Ahmed- 
nagar  and  thence  to  Satara,  where  on  Easter  Sunday 
he  had  been  baptised.  He  hoped  and  prayed  that  his 
father  and  the  rest  might  some  day  share  the  happiness 
of  this  experience.  He  wanted  to  return  to  school  at 


70  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

Chinchore  soon  and  hoped  that  his  father  would  come 
to  see  him  there.  He  sent  loving  greetings  to  his  mother 
and  sister. 

After  some  thought,  Appaji  decided  to  tell  the  news 
at  once  to  all  the  household,  and  he  did  so.  Again  there 
was  an  uproar.  Again  the  grandmother  in  an  abandon 
of  despair  swore  that  she  would  take  her  life.  Bala- 
vantrao,  being  an  orthodox  Hindu,  went  at  once  to 
Vishvanath,  the  Brahman,  with  the  tale,  and  that  eve- 
ning a  crowd  of  villagers,  some  angry,  some  grave,  and 
3ome  merely  curious,  gathered  at  the  village  square  to 
talk  over  this  untoward  event.  Appaji  quietly  joined 
the  group.  He  listened  with  the  rest  to  the  Brahman's 
bitter  attack  on  himself  and  Jayavant,  on  the  Satya 
Shodak  Samaj,  the  liberal  society  to  which  the  Brahman 
with  reason  blamed  this  occurrence,  on  Gangaramji,  and 
on  the  Christian  school.  Two  or  three  of  the  older  vil- 
lagers followed  in  similar  vein. 

Then  Appaji  himself  rose  and  looked  about  the  circle 
of  faces.  "Chintaman  Patil,  there  is  something  that  I 
would  say  about  this." 

"Say  on,"  said  Chintaman. 

"Twice  before  have  I  been  before  you  here,"  said 
Appaji.  "Once,  when  I  had  won  the  wrestling  match 
and  ye  did  me  honor,  and  once  when  I  returned  from 
the  War  and  ye  did  me  even  higher  honor.  I  won  the 
wrestling  match  for  the  honor  of  our  village  and  as  an 
example  for  all  our  young  men.  I  went  to  the  War  for 
the  sake  of  our  old  Maratha  glory  and  for  the  good  of 
our  Motherland.  Now  listen  to  me.  Never  did  we 
need  God's  help  more  than  we  need  it  now.  The  Sirkar 
has  given  us  home  rule.  Soon  we  shall  have  to  elect 


A    VILLAGE    WRESTLES  71 

those  who  are  to  rule  over  us.  Where  shall  we  find 
men  who  will  hold  even  the  balance  between  friend  and 
foe  and  who  will  serve  our  common  good  ?"  He  paused 
and  a  murmur  went  about  the  circle,  for  the  spirit  of 
public  service  was  well-nigh  unknown.  "Has  our  re- 
ligion prepared  us  for  this  ?  Will  Vishvanath  and  his 
mantras  help  us  ?  ~No.  But  the  religion  of  Christ  will 
help  us.  He  teaches  men  to  think  of  others.  I  know 
that  his  religion  is  true.  When  I  was  wounded,  men 
came  to  take  me  to  the  hospital,  risking  their  lives  for 
my  sake.  They  bore  upon  their  clothes  the  symbol  of 
Christ's  cross.  And  when  I  was  in  the  hospital,  a  white 
nurse  served  me  night  and  day,  caring  for  me  like  a 
sister.  She  too  wore  on  her  arm  a  red  cross.  I  have 
thought  about  this,  and  I  have  decided  that  I  will  join 
my  boy  Jayavant  and  that  I  too  will  become  a  Chris- 
tian." 

These  were  bold  words  for  Appaji  to  say  before  Vish- 
vanath. So  bold,  that  they  left  his  hearers  speechless. 
Some  shook  their  heads,  but  there  were  several  of  the 
younger  men  whose  faces  showed  their  approval.  After 
a  time  one  of  them  spoke. 

"Appaji,  thou  art  right.  Thou  hast  ever  been  the 
best  leader  of  our  village.  I  have  listened  to  the  Chin- 
chore  sahib's  talk,  and  it  is  true.  Some  day  all  of  us 
will  be  Christians." 

"Yes,"  answered  Appaji,  "and  that  day  is  not  far 
distant.  Already  in  South  India  thousands  of  men  of 
caste  like  ours  in  several  districts  have  become  Chris- 
tians. Here  the  Satya  Shodak  Samaj  grows  stronger 
every  year.  Soon  ye  too  shall  come  to  see  that  Christ 
is  the  hope  of  our  Motherland." 


72  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

Then  the  meeting  broke  up,  some  holding  with  Vish- 
vanath,  but  many  openly  siding  with  Appaji. 

Next  morning,  under  Vishvanath's  influence,  a  few 
of  the  pupils  did  not  go  to  the  Christian  school.  Most 
of  the  parents,  however,  refused  to  be  moved  by  his 
threats  and  arguments  and  continued  to  send  their  chil- 
dren. 

Appaji  went  to  Chinchore.  He  easily  satisfied  Mr. 
Greyson  that  he  was  ready  to  take  a  Christian  stand, 
and  when  Jayavant  came  back  from  Satara,  the  simple 
baptismal  ceremony  was  performed. 

That  was  the  critical  step  which  meant  a  final  break 
with  all,  except  Jayavant,  who  had  meant  most  to  him. 
From  now  on  he  was,  in  the  eyes  of  his  family,  an  out- 
caste.  He  could  no  longer  live  in  his  own  home,  and 
for  a  time  he  sought  and  found  employment  at  Chin- 
chore.  Sitabai  refused  to  see  her  husband  or  let  little 
Tara  see  him.  He  took  every  opportunity  to  send  them 
messages,  but  he  received  no  reply.  Many  a  hard  fight 
against  lonesomeness  and  longing  for  home  and  village 
did  Jayavant  and  he  fight  together.  But  after  many 
months,  the  glad  word  came  from  Sitabai  that  she 
could  bear  the  separation  no  longer  and  would  come  to 
live  with  him.  Arrangements  were  quickly  made,  and 
Sitabai  and  Tara  came  to  Chinchore. 

At  first  she  tried  to  observe  the  rules  of  caste,  but 
the  Christian  influences  about  her  were  too  strong  and 
finally  both  she  and  Tara  joined  the  church.  The  fam- 
ily reunion  was  complete,  and  joy  again  crowned  their 
humble  home. 

No  one  can  measure  the  influence  of  the  example  of 
Appaji  and  Jayavant  in  their  own  village  and  in  all  the 


A    VILLAGE    WRESTLER  73 

region.  Many  Maratha  boys  are  crowding  the  village 
schools  and  several  have  gone  to  the  boarding-school. 
Some  of  them  believe  in  Christ  and  intend  openly  to 
follow  Jayavant's  example  by  being  baptised.  The 
strength  of  the  Satya  Shodak  Samaj  and  other  agencies 
of  reform  among  the  middle  classes  grows.  More  and 
more  of  the  slow-moving  but  substantial  farmers,  who 
form  the  backbone  of  India's  life,  are  saying  openly 
that  they  will  all  some  day  become  Christians.  When 
will  that  day  come?  Who  can  say?  Appaji  and  Jaya- 
vant  will  tell  you,  if  you  ask  them,  that  a  great  move- 
ment among  the  Marathas  is  near  at  hand.  They  are 
praying  and  working  for  it.  Who  knows  but  that  they 
may  be  the  very  ones  who  are  to  play  a  leading  part  in 
the  winning  of  the  middle-class  millions  of  India? 


But  for  these  missionaries,  these  humble  orders  of 
Hindu  society  will  for  ever  remain  unraised.  ...  To  the 
Christian  missionaries  belongs  the  credit  of  having  gone 
to  their  humble  homes,  and  awakened  them  to  a  sense  of 
a  better  earthly  existence.  This  action  of  the  missionary 
was  not  a  mere  improvement  upon  ancient  history,  a 
kind  of  polishing  and  refining  of  an  existing  model,  but 
an  entirely  original  idea,  conceived  and  carried  out  with 
commendable  zeal,  and  oftentimes  in  the  teeth  of  oppo- 
sition and  persecution  .  .  .  the  heroism  of  raising  the 
low  from  the  slough  of  degradation  and  debasement  was 
an  element  of  civilization  unknown  to  ancient  India. 
— An  Eminent  Brahman  Official  in  the  Travancore  Cen- 
sus of  1901 


IV 

Out  of  the  Mire 

WE  have  come  on  our  bicycles  through  the  narrow, 
winding  street  of  a  little  Indian  village  and  are  passing 
out  through  the  large  iron-bound  gate  in  the  village 
wall,  when  we  hear  sounds  of  quarreling. 

"Arc,  Rama !  Get  out  of  my  way !  Your  father  was 
a  donkey  and  your  ancestors  were  pigs !  Get  out  of  my 
way,  I  say !"  More  and  still  more  abuse  pours  in  loud 
tones  from  the  mouth  of  an  old  woman.  She  is  one  of 
a  crowd  of  Indian  "outcastes"  gathered  in  an  open  space 
between  the  village  proper  and  the  group  of  tumble- 
down huts  which  make  up  the  outcaste  quarter.  They 
are  unkempt,  and  their  scanty  clothing  is,  for  the  most 
part,  ragged  and  filthy.  Now  they  are  pushing  each 
other  angrily. 

As  the  circle  opens  for  a  moment,  one  can  see  what 
it  is  all  about.  There  on  the  ground  is  the  bloody  car- 
cass of  a  dead  bullock.  Its  hide  has  been  stripped  off 
and  taken  away  as  a  precious  prize.  Those  nearest  are 
trying  to  hack  off  pieces  of  meat.  They  are  spotted  with 
blood.  When  those  of  the  outer  group  try  to  come  up 
to  get  their  share,  they  are  roughly  pushed  back  by 
those  who  are  nearer. 

A  fourteen-year-old  boy  breaks  from  the  group  and 
runs  toward  his  house  with  a  great  strip  of  meat.  He 
wears  a  dirty  little  cloth  about  his  loins, — nothing  more. 
His  body  is  covered  with  dirt,  and  there  are  sores  upon 
his  legs  and  head. 

A  few  in  the  group  are  muscular.     The  majority  are 

75 


76  INDIA    ON    THE    MAKOH 

thin  and  weak.  They  are  "Mahars"  by  caste,  the  scav- 
engers of  the  village,  and  the  prize  over  which  they 
are  quarreling  is  the  flesh  of  a  bullock  that  had  fallen 
dead  in  the  village  that  morning. 

A  fine  looking  villagp  headman  walks  by  with  averted 
face  in  which  one  can  clearly  read  his  dislike  of  the 
scene.  To  him,  as  to  all  Hindus  of  good  caste,  the  bul- 
lock is  a  sacred  animal.  He  loathes  the  thought  of  eat- 
ing its  meat,  and  as  for  touching  the  flesh  of  an  animal 
that  has  died  of  disease,  it  is  utterly  disgusting  to  him — 
just  as  it  is  to  us. 

A  boy  from  the  outer  group  sees  us  and  comes  running 
up  to  appeal  for  our  support.  "Eama  and  his  brothers 
will  not  let  our  party  have  any  of  the  meat.  They 
claim  it  all.  Bali  to  kan  pili."  1 

"Is  it  their  turn  to  do  the  village  work  ?"  we  ask. 

"Yes,"  he  replies ;  "but  always  when  it  is  our  turn, 
we  have  allowed  their  party  to  have  some  of  the  meat. 
That  has  been  the  custom  of  our  village." 

By  this  time  Eama  and  the  rest  have  seen  us.  They 
all  know  us  as  the  missionaries  who  are  the  special 
friends  of  their  village  and  in  charge  of  its  little  Chris- 
tian school.  Probably  from  a  sense  of  shame,  the  quar- 
rel subsides.  Some  come  up  to  say  salaam  to  the  sahibs, 
while  others  remain  at  work  about  the  carcass. 

It  is  a  typical  scene  in  an  outcaste  quarter  of  an 
Indian  village.  Picture  to  yourself  53,000,000  people 
sentenced  by  society  to  live  lives  like  this.  Outside  of 
each  village  are  the  outcaste  quarters  where  such  people 
exist  in  little  dark  mud  huts.  There  may  be  several 

i  A  native  saying,  meaning,  "The  strong  man  twists  others' 
ears." 


OUT    OF    THE    MIKE 


outcaste  groups  living  in  separate  quarters  near  the 
same  village.  It  is  one  of  the  most  pathetic  aspects  of 
their  life  that  each  panchama,  or  outcaste,  group  keeps 
aloof  from  every  other.  Those  among  them  who  regard 
themselves  as  higher  despise  the  lower,  just  as  the  high- 
caste  man  despises  them  all.  The  Mahars  despise  and 
hate  the  Mangs,  who  are  their  fellow-outcastes.  In  the 
same  way  the  Malas  of  South  India  will  have  nothing  to 
do  with  their  neighbors,  the  Madigas.  So  the  whole 
vicious  system  of  dislike  and  contempt  goes  on. 

The  Mahars  are  better  off  than  many  other  similar 
groups,  but  I  have  introduced  you  to  them  because  they 
are  the  outcastes  whom  I  know  best.  They  clean  the 
village  of  dead  animals  and  other  refuse,  and  eat  the 
meat.  They  are,  in  general,  the  village  servants  and 
messengers.  At  all  times  a  certain  number  of  them 
are  on  duty  in  the  village  to  do  anything  that  the  head- 
man may  ask.  Like  other  outcastes,  their  moral  stand- 
ards are  low,  and  they  have  no  strong  principles  against 
cheating  and  stealing.  Yet  they  will  carry  hundreds 
of  rupees  of  village  money  to  the  treasury  of  the  dis- 
trict and  never  dream  of  touching  any  of  it.  That  is 
part  of  their  caste  morality.  If  they  could  not  be  trusted 
with  money,  they  would  lose  their  job  as  village  servants. 

In  return  for  their  services  to  the  village,  the  Mahars 
of  each  village  receive  a  poor  piece  of  land  called  hadola, 
or  the  place  of  bones,  because  here  they  are  sup- 
posed to  deposit  the  bones  of  the  village  animals.  They 
also  have  the  right  to  beg  from  door  to  door  in  the  vil- 
lage during  the  time  when  it  is  their  turn  to  do  the 
village  service.  Jingle-jangle  go  the  iron  chains  on 
the  end  of  the  Mahar's  stick  as  he  waits  in  front  of  a 


78  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

easte  man's  door.  He  dare  not  knock  or  shout ;  he  must 
simply  jangle  his  stick.  "Who's  there?"  shouts  the 
farmer.  "Maruti  Mahar,"  answers  the  outcaste.  The 
farmer's  lip  curls.  "Here,  throw  him  this,"  he  says,  and 
gives  his  wife  a  broken  piece  of  hread.  Or,  if  he  likes 
Maruti,  he  may  send  him  out  a  measure  of  uncooked 
grain.  Poor  wages,  yet  no  Mahar  will  surrender  his 
right  to  take  a  turn  at  the  village  service  or  his  claim 
on  the  hadola  land.  These  things  are  all  he  has.  If 
you  ask  him  ahout  it,  he  may  answer  with  a  shrug  and 
a  native  saying,  "Anterun  pangarun  pahun  pai  pasarale 
pdhije,"  meaning,  "One  must  pay  attention  to  the  size 
of  his  blanket  in  stretching  out  his  legs."  Without  his 
"rights"  he  would  have  no  position  in  society  at  all ;  so 
he  clings  to  his  beggar  privileges  and  is  even  ready  to 
fight  for  them. 

Each  of  the  panchama  castes  has  its  own  peculiar 
position  in  society,  its  moral  standards,  its  own  duties. 
Some  are  rope  makers,  others  are  leather  workers.  Many 
of  them  have  little  other  occupation  than  that  of  farm 
laborers,  and  some  are  almost  slaves  of  the  caste  men 
who  own  the  farms  on  which  they  work.  They  all  eat 
meat, — most  of  them  the  meat  of  the  sacred  cow,  and 
many  of  them  the  carrion  flesh  of  dead  animals.  This 
is  what  pollutes  them  most  in  the  eyes  of  high-caste 
Hindus. 

A  few  individuals  among  them  have  become  mod- 
erately prosperous  as  farmers  or  traders.  Others  have 
gone  off  to  the  city  to  work  in  the  mills  and  in  various 
sorts  of  "coolie"  labor,  living  for  the  most  part  in  the 
city  slums.  But  the  great  majority  remain  in  the 
country,  clinging  to  the  fringe  of  the  village.  In  times 


OUT    OF    THE    MIRE  79 

of  good  harvest  they  may  have  enough  for  a  meager 
living,  adding  now  and  then  to  their  regular  food  a 
gruesome  feast  on  the  cattle  that  die  in  the  village. 
When  things  go  well  with  them,  it  is  truly  wonderful 
to  see  how  quickly  they  forget  their  privations.  They 
love  a  wedding  feast,  and  at  such  a  celebration  often 
show  that  they  have  not  forgotten  how  to  joke  and  laugh. 

But  what  can  they  do  when  the  rain  fails  and  famine 
comes?  They  are  naturally  the  ones  who  suffer  first 
and  most.  A  missionary  from  South  India  wrote  that 
he  had  "seen  a  man  come  home  late  at  night  to  a  family 
of  five  persons  with  a  smile  of  triumph  at  his  success, 
and  all  he  had  brought  in  a  filthy  pot  as  his  day's  wages 
was  a  mess  of  millet  gruel  about  equivalent  to  the 
porridge  which  two  English  children  take  for  break- 
fast, and  this  was  the  sole  nourishment  of  five  persons 
for  that  twenty-four  hours.  The  householder  next  door 
had  failed  altogether,  and  he  and  his  family  had  gone 
hungry  to  bed  after  drinking  a  little  salt  and  water  at 
food  time."  2 

How  does  it  happen  that  one-sixth  of  all  India's 
people  have  for  thousands  of  years  been  living  in  such 
a  way  as  this  ?  The  answer  seems  to  be  in  one  Indian 
word  varna,  which,  in  this  use,  means  classes  based  on 
color — "color  prejudice."  Two  great  waves  of  invasion 
swept  down  over  India  from  the  north, — first,  the  brown. 
Dravidians,  then,  the  white  Aryans.  They  found  al- 
ready settled  in  the  land  tribes  of  darker  people  of  a 
low  civilization.  Some  of  these  moved  farther  south. 
Others  were  driven  into  the  mountains  and  forests, 
where  they  became  the  ancestors  of  the  wild  hill  tribes 

2  Godfrey  Phillips,  The  Outcastes'  Hope,  p.  10. 


80  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

and  hunter  people.  Still  others  the  conquerors  made 
into  serfs,  and  these  became  the  village  outcastes.  The 
customs  of  these  serfs  were  repulsive  to  the  conquerors. 
Partly  in  self-protection,  partly  in  contempt,  they  re- 
fused to  let  them  live  in  their  villages.  They  would 
neither  eat  with  them  nor  have  any  social  intercourse 
with  them. 

I  have  been  in  a  village  in  which  the  villagers  had 
just  made  a  barricade  of  thorns  to  prevent  Mahars  from 
defiling  one  of  the  streets  of  the  village  by  walking  in 
it.  In  some  parts  of  India  the  outcastes  must  get  out 
of  the  road  when  a  high-class  man  comes  anywhere  near, 
in  order  that  they  may  not  pollute  the  air  he  breathes. 
The  outcaste  may  not  study  with  the  caste  child  in 
school.  Perhaps  he  is  allowed  to  sit  on  the  veranda  and 
to  get  what  instruction  the  teacher  deigns  to  give  him 
there.  The  outcaste  may  not  use  the  village  well.  Some- 
times his  wife  and  children  have  to  go  two  miles  to 
draw  and  carry  home  every  drop  of  water  used.  Do 
you  wonder  that  they  are  often  dirty  ?  No  outcaste  is 
ever  allowed  inside  the  Hindu  temple.  He  would  be 
murdered  if  he  tried  to  go  in.  So  he  builds  his  own 
little  shrine  outside  the  village  or  simply  puts  a  rock 
up  on  end,  smears  it  with  red  paint  and  worships  that. 
Fear  of  demons,  goblins,  and  the  mysterious  powers 
about  him  is  the  principal  element  in  his  religion.  He 
often  tries  to  win  the  favor  of  these  powers  by  strange 
sacrifices  and  self-torture. 

Until  Christianity  came,  India  had  not  dreamed  of 
any  better  life  for  the  outcastes.  "As  soon  may  a  black 
puppy  be  changed  to  a  white  one  as  a  barber  become  a 
Brahman."  So  writes  a  popular  Indian  author.  Manu, 


OUT    OF    THE    MIKE  81 

the  great  Hindu  lawgiver,  speaking  of  certain  outcastes, 
lays  down  the  following  rule:  "The  abode  of  a  Chan- 
dala  and  a  Swapaca  must  be  out  of  the  town;  they 
must  not  have  the  use  of  entire  vessels ;  their  sole  wealth 
must  be  dogs  and  asses.  Their  clothes  must  be  the 
mantles  of  the  deceased;  their  dishes  for  food,  broken 
pots ;  their  ornaments,  rusty  iron ;  continually  must  they 
roam  from  place  to  place.  Let  no  man  who  regards  his 
duty,  religious  and  civil,  hold  any  intercourse  with 
them,  let  their  transactions  be  confined  to  themselves, 
and  their  marriages  be  only  between  equals."  Hindu- 
ism taught  that  outcastes  were  suffering  in  their  present 
life  the  just  penalty  of  sins  committed  in  some  previous 
existence.  Thus  it  was  religion  itself  which  forged  the 
shackles  and  riveted  them  on  the  outcaste.  Does  it  not 
seem  almost  impossible  to  think  of  any  religion  teaching 
such  things?  It  is  only  human  to  try  to  help  those 
who  are  weak  and  poor.  Yet  with  the  high-caste 
Hindu,  it  came  to  be  part  of  his  religious  duty  to  keep 
the  outcaste  down. 

The  pitiful  fact  is  that  even  the  outcastes  themselves 
have  generally  accepted  their  lot  as  part  of  the  divine 
order.  A  few  of  them  have  won  their  way  to  fame  as 
poets  and  religious  leaders,  but  only  a  very  few.  Until 
recently  almost  none  of  them  have  tried  to  rise  or  have 
thought  that  they  could  rise.  Have  you  ever  seen  a 
group  of  prisoners  with  their  striped  prison  suits  and 
their  dull,  lifeless  faces?  India's  outcastes  are  not 
bound  by  steel  handcuffs  or  chains,  but  they  go 
about  with  the  hopeless  look  of  prisoners.  For  per- 
haps two  thousand  years  their  ancestors  have  been  out- 
castes. Meet  one  of  them  anywhere  and  ask  him,  "Who 


82  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

are  you  ?"  He  will  look  up  sometimes  with  callous  in- 
difference, sometimes  with  apology  and  shame,  and  say, 
"I  am  a  Mahar,"  or,  "I  am  a  Mang."  That  is  all  he 
thinks  you  would  care  to  know.  He  does  not  tell  you 
his  name.  He  is  just  one  of  that  group,  like  the  pris- 
oner who  is  known  by  his  prison  number. 

"Don't  you  want  to  be  clean?"  asked  a  missionary 
of  a  filthy  pariah  woman.  "Why  should  I  want  to  be 
clean?  I  am  a  pariah,"  was  the  frank  reply.  I  have 
seen  a  high-caste  girl  of  twelve  in  the  city  street  scream- 
ing filthy  abuse  in  shrill,  angry  tones  at  an  outcaste  girl 
of  her  own  age.  She  picked  up  mud  from  the  dirty 
street  and  threw  it  at  the  sweeper  child,  who  made  no 
reply  but  ran  away,  a  look  of  fear  and  utter  hopelessness 
on  her  face  that  I  shall  never  forget.  Which  of  these 
girls  do  you  pity  more — the  one  doomed  to  be  always  an 
outcaste,  or  the  one  whose  religion  made  it  natural  for 
her  to  treat  another  little  girl  of  her  own  age  in  such 
a  way  ?  Try  to  think  of  a  rural  village  in  North  Amer- 
ica in  which  the  farm  hands  may  not  live  with  the 
farmers  or  drink  from  their  well,  but  every  night  must 
go  to  a  little  huddled  slum  clearly  separated  from  the 
rest  of  the  village.  Off  in  still  another  quarter  are  the 
cobblers  and  shoe  dealers  and  butchers.  Their  children 
may  not  follow  any  other  trade  than  that  of  their  par- 
ents. They  too  must  live  out  their  lives  in  the  same 
huts.  Despised  outcastes  from  birth!  Can  you  imag- 
ine it? 

It  is  one  of  the  wonderfully  oeautiful  things  about  a 
true  Christian  that  he  always  tries  to  help  the  poorest 
and  the  lowest.  Paul  won  most  of  his  converts  from 
among  the  slaves  and  lower  classes  of  the  Roman  Em- 


OUT    OF    THE    MIKE  83 

pire.  "For  behold  your  calling,  brethren,"  he  writes 
to  the  Christians  of  Corinth,  "that  not  many  wise  after 
the  flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble,  are  called : 
but  God  chose  the  foolish  things  of  the  world,  that  he 
might  put  to  shame  them  that  are  wise;  and  God  chose 
the  weak  things  of  the  world,  that  he  might  put  to  shame 
the  things  that  are  strong;  and  the  base  things  of  the 
world,  and  the  things  that  are  despised,  did  God  choose, 
yea,  and  the  things  that  are  not,  that  he  might  bring  to 
nought  the  things  that  are." 

Christian  missionaries  would  have  been  false  to  their 
Master  if  they  had  not  gone  to  the  outcastes.  One  of 
the  greatest  mission  stations  in  India  began  by  the  win- 
ning of  a  few  miserable  outcaste  beggars  living  in  a  poor- 
house.  Everywhere  it  has  been  from  these  classes  that 
most  of  the  Christian  converts  have  come. 

Do  you  wonder  that  many  of  them  turned  to  a  re- 
ligion which  recognizes  them  as  real  men  and  women 
rather  than  as  little  better  than  slaves,  especially  when 
the  missionaries  not  only  talked  about  God's  love,  but 
also  made  the  message  vital  by  starting  hospitals,  es- 
tablishing schools,  working  to  secure  for  the  outcaste 
some  of  his  rights  as  a  man,  and  by  a  thousand  expres- 
sions of  Christian  friendliness? 

Yet  modern  missions  had  been  in  India  for  sixty 
years  before  any  large  number  of  the  outcastes  caught 
the  meaning  of  Christianity  for  them.  It  was  the 
famine  of  1876-79  in  South  India  that  led  them  to  come 
into  the  Church  by  whole  groups  and  in  large  numbers. 
That  was  a  terrible  famine.  People  died  by  the  mil- 
lions. The  missionaries  threw  themselves  into  relief 
work.  During  the  famine,  they  did  not  baptize  any  con- 


84  INDIA    ON    THE    MAEOH 

verts.  All  they  could  think  of  was  to  try  to  save  the 
lives  of  those  who  were  starving.  "But  all  the  time,  they 
were  preaching  better  sermons  than  words  could  express. 
"These  missionaries,  although  they  are  white  people, 
care  for  us."  That  was  the  first  and  most  surprising 
thought  to  a  people  used  to  nothing  but  contempt  from 
the  upper  classes.  "They  tell  us  that  their  God  cares 
for  us  too.  They  are  ready  to  start  schools  for  our 
children.  Shall  we  not  become  Christians?" 

So  they  talk  it  over  among  themselves.  Some  urge 
the  step.  Others  cling  to  their  old  worship.  After  a 
while  a  part  go  to  the  missionary  and  say  that  they 
want  to  become  Christians.  He  welcomes  the  group 
and  asks  them  whether  they  are  ready  to  give  up  en- 
tirely their  idols  and  worship  the  one  God  who  is  their 
heavenly  Father. 

"Yes,  Excellency.  The  Hindus  keep  us  out  of  their 
temples.  Our  own  gods  have  done  us  no  good.  We 
will  give  them  up." 

"And  will  you  go  to  church  regularly  and  learn  how 
to  worship  and  live  in  the  Christian  way  ?" 

"Yes,  Excellency." 

"And  will  you  give  up  immoral  living,  stealing,  and 
the  eating  of  the  flesh  of  dead  animals  ?" 

Probably  they  have  known  beforehand  that  these  ques- 
tions would  be  asked  and  have  already  made  up  their 
minds. 

"Yes,  Excellency.  Send  us  a  Christian  teacher,  and 
we  will  try  to  do  all  these  things." 

"And  will  you  send  your  children  to  school  ?" 

"Yes,  -we  will." 


OUT    OF    THE    MIKE  85 

So  the  Christian  teacher  is  sent,  and  they  are  en- 
rolled as  inquirers.  The  missionary  conies  to  their 
village  as  often  as  he  can  to  encourage  them  in  their 
purpose.  After  some  months,  if  they  keep  their  prom- 
ise and  show  signs  of  true  Christian  character,  they  are 
baptized. 

It  was  something  like  this  that  happened  in  South 
India  after  the  famine  days  about  forty  years  ago,  and 
from  that  day  to  this  "mass  movements"  have  been  go- 
ing on  in  different  parts  of  India  all  the  time.  Over 
two  hundred  thousand  have  become  Christians  in  the 
Telugu  country  to  the  south.  Far  north  in  the  Punjab 
the  outcastes  of  whole  regions  have  been  baptized.  Prob- 
ably not  far  from  a  million  outcastes  have  become  Chris- 
tians in  the  last  ten  years. 

In  many  parts  of  India  the  numbers  who  now  desire 
to  become  Christians  are  overwhelming.  They  are  far 
greater  than  the  missionaries  or  Indian  Christian  lead- 
ers can  handle.  I  went  with  Pastor  Samuel  through 
the  villages  of  his  parish  in  the  Madura  District.  Every- 
where eager  groups  came  out  to  speak  with  him. 

"You  have  many  inquirers  in  your  parish,"  I  said. 

He  looked  up  quickly  and  answered,  "I  could  baptize 
a  thousand  this  year  if  I  had  money  enough  to  send  them 
a  few  teachers."  He  could  find  the  teachers,  but  he 
did  not  have  the  money  for  their  salaries — only  sixty  to 
eighty  dollars  a  year  each.  Bishop  Fred  B.  Fisher  of 
the  American  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  in  his  inter- 
esting book,  India's  Silent  Revolution,  tells  of  being  at 
a  conference  where  91,000  people  who  wanted  to  become 
Christians  had  to  be  refused  because  there  were  no 


86  INDIA    ON    THE    MAEOH 

teachers  to  send.  With  a  larger  force  of  missionaries 
and  Indian  pastors  and  teachers  probably  ten  million 
would  commit  themselves  to  the  Christian  life  in  the 
next  thirty  years. 

In  some  of  the  mass  movement  areas  no  person  is 
now  received  into  the  Church  until  his  entire  village 
group  is  ready  to  come  with  him.  "Go  back  and  win 
your  village  and  then  come  to  me,"  is  what  the  mission- 
ary says  to  the  inquirer.  To  have  all  come  at  once 
lessens  persecution  and  gives  the  community  greater 
strength  to  meet  it.  The  caste  system  has  made  it  nat- 
ural to  treat  the  outcastes  in  masses.  That  is  the  way 
the  caste  men  treat  them.  They  themselves  naturally 
think  that  way  and  act  that  way.  It  is  only  after  they 
become  Christian  that  many  of  them  show  strong  indi- 
vidual character. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  ways  of  solving  the  prob- 
lem of  getting  Christian  leaders  for  the  mass  movement 
has  been  the  training  of  the  headmen  of  the  outcaste 
communities  in  short  courses — the  "Plattsburgs"  of  the 
Christian  campaign.  The  missionaries  invite  anywhere 
from  twenty-five  to  two  hundred  of  these  headmen  for 
a  course  lasting  two  or  three  weeks.  Bishop  Fisher  de- 
scribes such  a  course:  "A  popular  method  is  learning 
hymns.  The  Indian  Christian  hymn  is  no  dilettante 
matter.  It  is  frequently  two  hours  long  and  sometimes 
covers  Christ's  birth,  death,  and  resurrection,  winding 
up  with  a  long  series  of  observations  on  what  sort  of 
life  a  Christian  should  lead." 3  At  the  end  of  the 
course,  the  headmen  go  back  to  teach  their  communities 
what  they  have  learned. 

» India's  Silent  Revolution,  Fisher,  p.  98. 


OUT    OF    THE    MIRE  87 

Have  I  made  it  look  like  an  easy  and  simple  thing 
for  outcastes  to  become  Christians  ?  I  hope  not.  Often 
it  is  far  from  easy.  They  have  to  make  a  break  from 
their  whole  past.  Frequently  they  have  to  suffer  bitter 
persecution.  The  wonder  is  that  they  almost  always 
stand  firm  under  it.  There  is  a  bigoted  village  off  in 
the  far  corner  of  the  district  in  which  I  worked.  Most 
of  the  outcastes  in  this  village  were  baptized.  The 
castemen  then  refused  to  employ  them  in  the  village 
work  or  in  their  fields.  A  little  while  afterwards  a  mob 
of  caste  villagers  attacked  them  with  sticks  and  left 
some  of  them  half  dead.  The  injured  men  were  taken 
to  a  dispensary,  but  the  castemen  bribed  the  doctor  not 
to  make  a  true  report.  They  also  bribed  the  police  offi- 
cial to  whitewash  the  case.  A  little  later  some  castemen, 
in  the  dead  of  night,  set  fire  to  the  thatch  roofs  of  the 
huts  of  some  of  the  outcastes,  leaving  them  homeless  as 
well  as  penniless  and  in  daily  fear  of  fresh  attacks. 
But  the  outcastes  did  not  renounce  their  Christian  pro- 
fession, and  I  marvelled  as  T  saw  the  way  these  ig- 
norant villagers  stood  firm.  Finally  the  castemen  of 
the  village  stopped  their  persecution  and  accepted  the 
situation. 

But  persecution  like  this  is  growing  less.  One  of 
the  most  interesting  results  of  the  work  of  Christian 
missionaries  in  India  has  been  its  effect  on  the  attitude 
of  the  best  Indians  toward  the  outcastes.  The  Arya 
Sanaa j,  a  powerful  and  vigorous  reform  movement,  is 
actually  offering  to  put  the  outcastes  through  a  cere- 
mony whereby  they  may  become  uTouchables"  and  rec- 
ognized members  of  the  Hindu  community.  Lala  Lajpat 
Rai,  the  best  known  leader  of  the  Arya  Sanaa  j,  frankly 


88  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECK 

acknowledges  that  educated  Hindus  are  alarmed  at  the 
numbers  of  outcastes  who  are  becoming  Christian.  He 
calls  upon  his  countrymen  to  give  up  their  prejudices 
and  admit  the  outcaste.  He  says,  "The  Christian  mis- 
sionary is  gathering  the  harvest,  and  no  blame  can  at- 
tach to  him  for  doing  so.  He  is  in  this  country  with 
the  message  of  his  God,  and  if  the  Hindus  forsake  their 
own  people,  he,  in  any  case,  will  not  fail  them." 

The  following  is  from  a  vivid  description  of  the  cere- 
mony whereby  an  outcaste  group  was  actually  "con- 
verted" to  Hinduism  by  a  member  of  the  Arya  Samaj. 
The  account  tells  of  the  steps  taken  for  the  purification 
of  the  outcastes  and  of  the  assembly  of  the  higher  caste 
people  to  see  the  final  ceremony.  "After  taking  the 
vow  of  clean  living  and  clean  thinking,  and  pouring 
in  his  libation  to  the  fire,  the  hour-before-human-shaped- 
soulless  animal  rises  up  at  the  command  of  the  teacher, 
metamorphosed  into  a  full-fledged  human  being,  with  a 
distinctly  perceptible  light  of  the  soul  shining  in  his 
features.  The  high-caste  men  of  the  village  take  candies 
offered  by  his  hands,  lead  him  to  the  village  well,  and 
permit  him  to  draw  water  out  of  it.  The  body,  with 
its  newly  possessed  soul,  quivers  at  the  unexpected  in- 
dulgence and  hesitates  for  a  moment ;  but  the  fraternal 
encouragement  of  the  whole  village  community  gives 
him  heart,  and,  led  by  the  Guru,  he  walks  up  the  steps 
of  the  well  and  pulls  the  rope.  His  centuries-old  dis- 
abilities are  removed  by  this  one  act,  his  self-respect  is 
restored  to  him,  and  his  sense  of  humanity  completed. 
For  though  a  Sudra  still,  he  is  no  longer  untouchable, 
his  touch  pollutes  no  more."  How  many  have  thus  been 


OUT    OF    THE    MIEE  89 

restored  to  Hindu  respectability,  as  an  indirect  result 
of  Christian  missions,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  Probably 
it  runs  up  to  over  50,000.  Liberal  Hindus  have  started 
a  "Mission  to  the  Depressed  Classes"  which  sends  its 
high-caste  "missionaries"  among  these  people.  It  is  not 
too  much  to  say  that  the  work  of  the  Christian  mission- 
aries is  rapidly  raising  the  entire  position  of  fifty-three 
million  people. 

Yet  the  efforts  of  all  non-Christian  agencies  are  still 
feeble  indeed  compared  to  those  of  Christians.  Others 
do  not  have  the  compelling  motive  which  Christ  gives. 
The  Mission  to  the  Depressed  Classes,  with  all  the 
praise  it  receives  from  rich  and  influential  Hindus,  is 
really  a  very  small  affair.  "After  all,"  said  a  leading 
Nationalist,  "when  it  comes  to  practise,  Christianity 
alone  is  effecting  what  we  Nationalists  are  crying  out 
for;  namely,  the  elevation  of  the  masses." 

Perhaps  the  very  best  work  which  the  missionaries 
are  doing  to  win  the  high-caste  people  of  India  to  Christ 
is  done  when  they  are  not  working  for  them  at  all.  It 
is  done  when  the  missionaries  turn  their  backs  on  the 
quarters  of  the  caste  people  and  go  into  the  little  dirty 
panchama  huts  to  raise  the  level  of  the  life  of  the  de- 
spised outcastes.  This  is  the  real  Christian  gospel, — 
an  object  lesson  in  Christian  brotherhood.  It  is  sham- 
ing and  stimulating  all  India  to  higher  ideals. 

An  interesting  fact  about  the  winning  of  the  out- 
castes  is  that  in  the  very  districts  in  which  many  out- 
castes  have  become  Christian,  the  sturdy  middle  classes 
are  now  moving  toward  Christianity.  "If  you  work  for 
these  pariahs,  we  will  never  become  Christians,"  they 


90  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

said  to  the  missionaries  at  first;  but  now  they  are  say- 
ing, "If  your  religion  can  do  so  much  for  these  people, 
can  it  not  help  us  too?" 

What  sort  of  Christians  do  these  outcaste  Indians 
make  ?  All  sorts.  Some  are  very  crude  and  low.  Some 
are  among  the  noblest  Christians  to  be  found  anywhere 
in  the  world.  When  we  see  what  poor  Christians  many 
of  us  in  "Christian"  America  are,  with  fifteen  hundred 
years  of  Christianity  back  of  us,  we  shall  not  expect 
all  of  these  people,  who  have  been  living  in  the  mire, 
to  become  pure  saints  at  once.  They  have  set  their 
faces  toward  the  light.  That  is  the  important  fact. 

The  leading  Christian  of  a  large  district  in  India  is 
Vinayakrao  Uzagare.4  His  father  was  an  outcaste  and 
became  the  first  Christian  in  all  that  region.  The  father 
endured  much  persecution,  but  in  the  end  he  won  his 
own  relatives  by  his  patience  and  persistence.  Vinaya- 
krao grew  up  in  a  Christian  home  and  went  to  a  Chris- 
tian school.  He  was  a  "second  generation  Christian." 
They  are  the  real  test  of  what  Christianity  can  do  for 
the  outcaste,  because  Christ  has  a  chance  at  them  from 
childhood. 

Vinayakrao  was  a  large,  athletic  boy.  He  was  so 
strong  that  he  could  never  find  another  boy  of  his  age 
powerful  enough  to  be  a  real  opponent.  He  loved  to 
wander  in  the  fields  and  mountains  near  his  home  and 
was  not  afraid  of  anything.  His  father  gave  him  the 
best  education  he  could — that  of  the  Ahmednagar  High 
School,  and  Vinayakrao  took  a  position  on  the  rail- 
road. Frank  and  open,  with  force  of  character  that 

*  Vinayakrow  Uzagare. 


OUT    OF    THE    MIEE  91 

went  well  with  his  physical  power,  he  had  every  promise 
of  success  in  business.  But  he  felt  a  call  to  go  into 
Christian  work.  So  he  gave  up  his  business  prospects, 
studied  in  a  theological  seminary,  and  went  out  on  a 
salary  of  seven  dollars  a  month  as  the  pastor  of  a  little 
native  church  far  from  the  city. 

There  he  threw  himself  into  the  service  of  his  church 
and  Christian  school.  He  won  such  respect  that  a 
Brahman  of  the  town  was  glad  to  teach  in  his  school, 
and  all  classes  in  the  town  turned  to  him.  British  Gov- 
ernment officials  noticed  and  praised  his  fearless  fight 
against  evil  and  his  power  for  good.  After  a  time  he 
was  put  at  the  head  of  the  Christian  school  system  of 
the  entire  mission  district.  Then,  by  the  general  re- 
quest of  his  colleagues,  he  was  made  superintendent  of 
Christian  work  for  the  district.  He  is  now  doing  the 
work  that  a  foreign  missionary  formerly  did  and  is 
doing  it  in  many  ways  better  than  a  missionary  ever 
could  do  it. 

Generous  to  a  fault,  he  gives  of  his  small  income  till 
he  himself  sometimes  goes  almost  in  rags.  Brave,  he 
will  nurse  a  man  who  has  the  most  fearful  of  Indian 
diseases,  Asiatic  cholera,  or  will  take  a  stand  that  he 
feels  is  right  against  fiercest  opposition.  Yet  he  will 
labor  with  loving  patience  to  try  to  win  a  man  or  to 
settle  a  quarrel.  If  the  caste  people  of  that  region  were 
to  choose  the  man  whom  they  would  most  trust  to  be 
their  representative,  I  am  convinced  that  they  would 
choose  none  of  the  educated  Brahmans  and  none  of  the 
village  headmen,  but  this  son  of  the  outcaste  quarter 
whom  Christ  has  transformed.  I  am  proud  to  count 


92  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

him  in  the  little  inner  circle  of  my  intimate  friends. 

Miracles?  You  do  not  have  to  turn  to  the  record  of 
past  ages  to  find  them.  Just  come  with  me  some  day 
to  the  village  of  Kolgaon  and  meet  this  man  who  has 
a  thousand  years  of  degradation  behind  him.  First  go 
into  the  outcaste  quarter  in  which  his  father  was  born. 
Then  come  and  look  into  his  face  and  talk  with  him  of 
his  people.  You  would  come  away,  as  I  always  come 
away  from  a  talk  with  him,  wondering  at  the  Power 
that  has  molded  from  an  outcaste  such  a  nobleman  of 
God  and  such  an  apostle  of  Christ.  All  over  India 
you  can  find  such  men.  Most  of  them  will  never  be 
heard  of  beyond  their  own  districts.  It  is  they  who 
are  the  backbone  of  the  Christian  campaign  in  India. 

There  are  other  Christians  of  outcaste  origin  who 
are  more  brilliant  and  no  less  devoted  than  Vinayakrao. 
Among  them  are  some  who  have  won  high  position  in 
law  and  medicine  and  who  are  now  leading  citizens  of 
Indian  cities,  received  as  equals  by  Brahmans  and 
Englishmen.  One  of  the  brilliant  students  of  a  great 
American  university  in  recent  years  was  such  an  In- 
dian. No  American  student  could  excel  him  in  charm 
of  manner,  in  instinctive  refinement,  or  in  Christian 
consecration.  He  earns  all  his  expenses  while  in  Amer- 
ica by  lecturing  on  India,  and  he  is  so  popular  and  suc- 
cessful that  he  was  offered  five  thousand  dollars  a  year 
if  he  would  become  a  regular  lecturer.  But  he  has  ded- 
icated his  life  to  the  service  of  his  own  country,  and  he 
is  going  back  to  work  for  India. 

When  I  think  of  India's  outcastes,  I  am  reminded  of 
one  of  nature's  greatest  miracles.  Out  of  the  mold  of 


OUT    OF    THE    MIKE  93 

vegetable  matter,  through  the  pressure  of  the  ages,  she 
has  formed  the  great  coal  beds  on  which  our  factories  de- 
pend for  power  and  our  homes  for  heat.  Then  from  this 
same  material,  bj  a  process  so  long  that  we  can  only 
dimly  imagine  it,  nature  has  fashioned  diamonds.  So, 
from  the  crude  human  material  of  the  outcastes  of  In- 
dia, God  is  fashioning  diamonds  like  Vinayakrao.  And 
He  calls  us  to  be  his  partners  in  this  great  work. 


From  the  Marathi  New  Testament 
Lufce  19:10 

The  Son  of  Man  came  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which 
was  lost. 


V 

Born  To  Be  Robbers 

TEVAN  1  was  excited.  He  had  every  reason  to  be,  for 
he  was  out  on  his  first  real  "expedition."  He  was  a  well- 
built,  muscular  boy  of  sixteen,  a  Piramalai  Kallar 2  by 
caste.  "Piramalai"  means,  "behind  the  mountain,"  and 
"Kallar"  means,  "robber."  The  Piramalai  Kallars  took 
refuge  centuries  ago  behind  the  Kaga-Malai  or  Snake 
Mountain  in  the  Madura  District  in  South  India. 
Thence  they  have  spread  over  a  wide  section  of  dry 
country  where  they  till  the  rocky  soil,  which  yields  them 
only  a  scant  living  in  good  seasons.  It  is  utterly  in- 
adequate when  the  rains  fail,  and  then  ?  Why,  there  are 
plenty  of  well-to-do  merchants  to  be  robbed.  The  Pira- 
malai Kallars  scarcely  need  this  incentive  of  necessity 
to  crime,  for  robbery  is  the  very  spice  of  life  to  them. 

Think  of  being  born  into  a  family  and  into  a  com- 
munity where  every  male  is  expected  to  be  a  robber  and 
where  a  good  father  will  not  consider  giving  an  attrac- 
tive daughter  to  any  young  man  who  has  not  proved 
his  worth  by  his  skill  and  boldness  in  several  dacoities, 
or  stealing  expeditions! 

Had  Tevan  received  any  education  ?  Oh,  yes.  From 
early  boyhood  he  had  been  taught  by  his  father  how  to 
move  about  safely  and  noiselessly  at  night,  how  to  place 
the  deadly  knife  securely  in  his  knotted  hair  where  it 
would  be  ready  for  an  emergency,  how  to  tell  lies  suc- 
cessfully in  case  of  need,  and  how  to  cover  his  tracks 
when  he  was  pursued.  This  teaching  had  been  rein- 

i  Tevun.  2  Pirumullai  Kullar. 

95 


96  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

forced  by  many  a  tale  of  bold  attack  and  thrilling  es- 
cape told  at  the  village  rest-house,  where  the  men  gath- 
ered in  the  evening.  Moreover,  he  had  learned  the 
simple  traditions  and  practises  of  the  primitive  Indian 
farmer  and  had  become  skilled  in  bull  baiting — the 
favorite  sport  of  the  Kallars. 

Had  he  learned  to  read  and  write?  Of  course  not. 
How  would  that  help  him  to  steal  or  to  plow?  And 
did  he  know  that  stealing  with  possible  murder  was 
wrong  ?  How  should  he  ?  He  had  gone  regularly  with 
his  family  and  fellow-villagers  to  worship  the  little 
black  image  of  Kuruppan  which  stood  on  a  platform 
under  a  tree.  They  asked  Kuruppan's  blessing  when 
they  started  out  on  a  dacoity,  and  they  offered  him  their 
thanks  when  they  returned  successful.  It  was  their 
god  who  gave  them  skill  and  cunning.  He  was  the  god 
of  robbery.  "The  official  takes  bribes,  the  merchant 
sands  the  sugar,  but  we  choose  a  more  open,  courageous 
way  of  gathering  the  loot,"  is  what  his  father  might 
say  if  he  were  reproached  for  a  robbery.  But  Tevan 
would  have  no  such  answer  to  make.  He  would  simply 
be  amazed  if  anyone  should  hint  to  him  that  stealing 
was  wrong.  "I  am  a  Kallar,"  he  would  reply,  and  that 
would  seem  to  him  enough.  To  betray  a  comrade  would 
be  wrong,  but  to  steal  and  lie  and  even,  if  necessary, 
to  murder  were  his  duty  as  a  Kallar  and  would  win 
him  favor  with  God  and  man. 

And  so,  in  the  year  of  grace  1918,  he  was  standing 
on  tiptoe,  waiting  for  the  word  to  go  forward  into  his 
first  adventure.  It  was  a  big  adventure,  and  that  he 
had  been  chosen  was  an  indication  of  how  promising  a 
pupil  he  was.  This  was  not  an  affair  of  cattle  stealing 


BOEN    TO    BE    EOBBEES  97 

or  even  of  breaking  into  a  native  merchant's  house. 
They  were  planning  no  less  than  to  rob  a  certain  un- 
popular English  officer,  Robertson  Thurai  (Honorable 
Mr.  Robertson),  who  was  on  a  tour  of  the  district  and 
was  making  his  temporary  headquarters  in  a  traveler's 
bungalow  thirty  miles  from  Tevan's  village. 

For  one  thing,  Robertson  Thurai  had  refused  to  pay 
five  rupees  a  month  to  a  Kallar  "watchman"  for  his 
house.  These  watchmen  do  not  watch.  They  merely 
come  around  once  a  month  for  their  pay ;  but  it  is  un- 
derstood that  no  Kallar  will  rob  a  house  whose  owner 
pays  tribute.  Robertson  Thurai  had  not  only  refused 
to  pay,  but  had  sworn  roundly  at  the  Kallar  who  came 
to  offer  this  service  and  had  driven  him  away  from  his 
bungalow.  Th«  Kallars  had  other  things  against  Rob- 
ertson Thurai.  He  had  made  a  court  decision  that  bore 
heavily  on  some  of  them.  So  this  robbery  had  a  double 
motive.  They  were  seeking  both  booty  and  revenge. 

There  were  eight  Kallars  in  the  party,  and  they  had 
tramped  the  thirty  miles  that  day.  Now  it  was  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  they  all  stood  barefooted, 
their  dark  brown  bodies  naked  save  for  a  loin  cloth  and 
greased  so  that  they  might  easily  wriggle  out  of  any- 
one's grasp.  The  word  to  start  was  given.  Tevan's 
father,  Vellian,  laid  his  hand  on  his  son's  shoulder  as 
a  last  token  of  warning  and  encouragement.  Then, 
silently,  they  slipped  into  the  compound  of  the  trav- 
eler's bungalow  where  Robertson  Thurai  was  staying, 
and  past  the  sleeping  servants  on  the  veranda. 

Inside,  they  paused  long  enough  to  allow  their  eyes 
to  become  used  to  the  darkness.  They  could  tell  where 
the  Thurai's  bed  lay  by  the  noise  of  heavy  breathing. 


98  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

Tevan  and  one  other  had  been  assigned  to  that  corner. 
The  other  carried  a  heavy  stick  and  stood  over  the 
sleeper,  ready  to  club  him  into  unconsciousness  if  he 
woke  up  during  the  operation.  Tevan  slipped  between 
the  bed  and  the  wall,  where  he  felt  cautiously  in  the 
corner.  His  hand  struck  the  cold,  smooth  surface  of 
a  gun-barrel  placed  near  at  hand  by  the  English  officer 
for  his  protection.  He  raised  the  deadly  weapon  quickly 
and  crept  noiselessly  out,  stopping  only  to  grasp  a  ser- 
vant's bundle  which  his  foot  stumbled  against  near  the 
door.  He  was  the  first  back  at  the  rendezvous;  soon 
two  more  came,  stooping  under  the  weight  of  a  heavy 
trunk  which  they  had  carried  out  of  the  sleeping-room 
so  silently  that  no  one  was  disturbed. 

When  all  had  returned,  a  formidable  amount  of  loot 
lay  piled  before  them,  including  a  large  steel  dispatch 
box  which  probably  contained  money.  They  had  the 
Thurai's  watch  and  pocketbook  as  well. 

"Kuruppan  has  blessed  us,"  said  the  leader.  "Let 
us  hurry  away  before  the  alarm  is  given."  So  without 
waiting  to  return  for  a  second  haul,  they  started.  Earlier 
in  the  night  they  had  "borrowed"  a  cart  and  a  pair  of 
bullocks,  and  long  before  daybreak  they  were  on  their 
way  to  their  village,  most  of  the  party  sleeping  in 
various  positions  of  discomfort  in  the  crude  two-wheeled 
cart,  while  the  leader  drove  the  bullocks,  keeping  a  sharp 
lookout  for  danger. 

Now  it  was  unfortunate  for  the  success  of  Tevan's 
first  expedition  that  this  particular  Englishman  hap- 
pened to  be  having  a  poor  night.  It  was  not  long  after 
the  robbers  had  started,  before  Robertson  Thurai  woke 
up  and  flashed  his  night  light  to  see  what  time  it  was. 


BOBN    TO    BE    BOBBERS  99 

He  was  wide  awake  at  once  when  he  realized  that  his 
watch  was  gone  from  the  table.  He  climbed  out  from 
under  the  large  mosquito  net  which  covered  his  bed  and 
quickly  took  in  his  losses — the  rifle,  the  trunk,  and, 
most  of  all,  the  dispatch  case  which,  it  happened,  con- 
tained important  documents.  With  a  few  strides  he 
was  out  and  shaking  the  sleeping  watchman  with  no 
gentle  hand.  "Get  up !"  he  said. 

"Oh — oh,  Excellency,  I  have  not  been  asleep,  but 
was  just  resting,"  lied  the  scared  man,  holding  up  an 
arm  to  protect  himself  from  the  expected  blow.  In  a 
moment  the  compound  was  alive  with  activity,  and  in 
another  moment  Mr.  Robertson  was  dressed  and  striding 
to  the  shed  where  his  car  lay.  A  few  minutes  later,  and 
he  was  out  on  the  road. 

The  second  unlucky  circumstance  of  that  night  for 
the  Kallars  was  the  fact  that  the  police  superintendent 
of  the  Madura  District  was  camping  only  fifteen 
miles  away  from  Mr.  Robertson  in  a  village  on  the  same 
macadamized  road,  and  it  was  scarcely  more  than  half 
an  hour  before  he  too  was  jumping  from  his  bed,  aroused 
by  Mr.  Robertson's  call.  Soon  two  automobiles,  each 
with  an  English  sahib  at  the  wheel,  and  with  four  Indian 
policemen  crowded  in,  were  tearing  back  over  the  road. 
It  took  the  police  sahib  only  a  short  time  to  recognize 
the  work  of  the  Piramalai  Kallars,  and  his  plan  of  cam- 
paign was  formed  at  once.  One  automobile  load  was  to 
go  ahead  as  far  as  the  roads  wrould  carry  them  toward  the 
Snake  Mountain  country;  then  they  were  to  spread  out 
and  watch  the  most  likely  roads  and  paths.  The  police 
superintendent  borrowed  horses  from  the  robbed  official 
for  himself  and  his  posse  and,  following  the  rough  cart 


100  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

tracks  in  preference  to  the  main  road,  galloped  after 
the  escaping  robbers. 

At  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Tevan  was  en- 
gaged in  the  occupation  which  is  the  delight  of  every 
Indian  boy.  He  was  driving  the  bullock  cart,  sitting 
cross-legged  on  the  base  of  the  tongue  of  the  cart,  shout- 
ing abuse  at  the  lazy,  red  bullock,  uttering  indescribable 
clicks  and  guttural  shouts  at  the  black  and  tan  one, 
and  occasionally  leaning  forward  to  start  up  the  tired 
animals  by  twisting  their  tails.  In  the  cart  the  trunk 
no  longer  appeared.  It  had  been  forced  open,  and  its 
contents,  together  with  the  rest  of  the  loot,  had  been  dis- 
tributed among  the  band.  The  dispatch  case  too  had 
been  broken  open  and  the  money  removed.  Trunk  and 
dispatch  case  had  then  been  dumped  into  a  convenient 
clump  of  bushes  beside  the  road. 

Suddenly  every  drowsing  Kallar  in  the  cart  was  wide 
awake.  Around  a  bend  in  the  cart  track  behind  them 
trotted  two  horsemen  in  khaki,  one  of  them  an  English- 
man. They  were  both  clearly  policemen,  and  at  once 
the  Kallars  realized  that  they  were  on  their  trail.  To 
stay  in  the  cart  was  to  court  certain  arrest.  So,  each 
one  grabbing  his  loot,  they  scattered.  The  horsemen 
spurred  their  horses  to  a  gallop  and  were  upon  the  cart 
before  Tevan,  whose  attention  to  the  bullocks  had  been 
so  absorbing  as  to  prevent  his  catching  the  first  warning 
of  danger,  could  get  away.  The  boy  had  not  run  a  hun- 
dred paces  when  the  police  sahib  was  upon  him,  and  he 
found  himself  looking  into  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver.  He 
was  handcuffed  and  tied  to  a  tree  by  the  folds  of  his 
own  turban.  The  two  policemen  then  galloped  after  the 
other  escaping  robbers.  Soon  one  more  was  brought  in, 


?  i  a 

—  ^  2 
'£  o  *» 


—    O    <S 

11  gj 

1   £J3 

>>'•£  >> 
J-  3  2 

^  'O  T3 


—      fcH    ** 

0    9    60 

*    OS 


a»  o  o 


•s    a  * 

^^'C'S 

on  c  o  5 

t«     S  5* 

*  S.Sg 

mo        > 


BOKN"    TO    BE    KOBBEES  101 

and  Tevan  saw  with  dismay  that  it  was  his  own  father, 
who  had  lingered  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  help  him. 

Tevan  and  his  father,  knowing  that  further  conceal- 
ment was  both  impossible  and  undesirable,  told  their 
names  and  village.  The  English  superintendent  started 
at  once  for  the  village,  while  the  Indian  policeman  rode 
beside  the  cart  in  which  sat  Tevan  and  his  father,  both 
securely  handcuffed.  A  man  from  a  near-by  village  was 
impressed  for  the  service  of  driving  the  cart. 

The  dispatch  case  and  trunk  were  recovered,  and 
Tevan  and  his  father  were  duly  locked  up.  But  the 
superintendent  had  taken  a  liking  to  the  athletic  robber 
boy,  with  his  open  face  and  keen  look.  He  was  given 
a  light  sentence  as  a  first  offender,  and  the  superin- 
tendent had  a  special  little  talk  with  him  before  he 
went  to  prison. 

"Do  you  not  see  how  foolish  it  is  to  steal  ?"  he  said. 
"Even  if  you  had  escaped  this  time,  you  would  have  been 
caught  and  sent  to  jail  some  day  before  long.  Who  will 
now  till  your  field  and  get  bread  for  your  mother  and 
the  family?" 

"God  alone  knows,"  answered  Tevan. 

"The  Sirkar  (Government)  does  not  want  to  keep 
you  in  jail,"  continued  the  kindly  official.  "It  wants 
to  teach  your  people  better  ways  of  earning  their  living. 
We  are  ready  to  give  lands  and  schools  and  to  help  your 
people  in  every  way.  While  you  are  here  in  prison, 
you  will  have  a  chance  to  learn  to  read  and  write.  You 
will  also  be  taught  some  trade.  I  shall  keep  my  eye 
on  you.  If  you  do  well,  I  will  see  that  you  are  given 
a  scholarship  in  a  boarding-school  and  are  trained  to  be 
a  leader  of  your  people." 


102  INDIA    ON"    THE    MAECH 

Tevan  saw  both  the  truth  and  the  kindness  of  the 
superintendent's  attitude.  It  was  the  latter  that  utterly 
surprised  him  and  won  him.  He  had  always  looked 
upon  all  police  officials  as  his  natural  enemies  and  the 
enemies  of  his  people.  "Salaam,  Thurai,"  was  all  the 
boy  replied,  but  in  his  tone,  the  big  Englishman  rightly 
read  his  intention  to  try.  Frank  and  open  himself, 
Tevan  accepted  without  suspicion  the  direct  words  of 
the  Englishman,  and  set  about  to  make  the  best  use  of 
his  two  years  "in  school,"  as  his  people  jokingly  spoke 
of  it.  He  threw  himself  into  all  the  activities  of  the 
place  and  by  his  cheery  way  soon  became  popular  with 
most  of  the  wardens  as  well  as  with  his  fellow-prisoners. 

True  to  his  word,  the  police  superintendent  kept  his 
eye  on  Tevan.  His  greatest  problem  was  to  deal  with 
the  inherited  tendency  to  crime  of  many  of  the  200,000 
Kallars  of  the  Madura  District.  He  was  one  of  the 
leaders  in  the  Government  project  for  solving  this  prob- 
lem by  education  and  by  offering  the  Kallars  a  new 
chance.  He  liked  these  sturdy,  sport-loving,  fearless 
people,  and  Tevan  seemed  to  him  to  promise  to  become 
one  of  the  best  of  his  type.  He  was  glad,  therefore,  at 
the  end  of  the  term,  that  the  boy  had  done  so  well  that 
he  could  renew  his  offer  of  a  scholarship  in  a  boarding- 
school. 

When  Tevan  was  released,  he  went  straight  to  his 
village  and  home.  Things  had  not  gone  well  with  his 
family.  During  the  first  winter  his  little  sister  had 
died  of  malnutrition.  I^ow,  however,  the  crops  were 
good,  and  an  uncle  recently  released  from  prison  was 
caring  for  the  family.  Greatly  to  his  surprise,  Tevan's 
mother  favored  his  going  away  to  school.  "What  good 


BORN    TO    BE    BOBBEBS  103 

for  you  to  stay  here?  Soon  you  will  again  be  in  jail, 
and  we  will  be  left  helpless.  Go  and  study  and  come 
back  to  start  a  school  for  our  village,  so  that  our  boys 
may  learn  something  better  than  robbery — and  living 
in  prison."  After  a  short  visit  at  home,  Tevan  went 
to  make  use  of  his  scholarship  in  the  Training  School 
at  Pasumalai. 

There  he  was  surprised  to  find  a  score  more  of  boys 
of  his  own  caste,  all  sent  as  Government  scholars  with 
the  hope  that  they  would  go  back  as  teachers  and  leaders 
of  their  people.  He  was  even  more  surprised  one  day 
to  meet  a  fine  Kallar  who  had  become  a  Christian 
preacher  and  to  learn  that  already  many  of  his  people 
had  become  Christians.  He  had  heard  of  Christian 
Kallars  before,  but  there  were  none  in  his  village  or 
among  his  relatives,  and  he  had  never  thought  about 
the  matter. 

In  course  of  time  the  influence  of  the  daily  Bible 
lessons  and  the  worship  in  the  Pasumalai  school  brought 
their  natural  results,  and  Tevan  decided  to  make  the 
great  break  from  his  past  traditions  and  training  and 
become  a  Christian. 

With  the  same  zest  that  he  formerly  found  in 
thoughts  of  a  dacoity,  Tevan  is  now  looking  forward 
to  the  great  adventure  of  winning  his  people  to  a  higher 
life.  No  less  courage  or  patience  or  ingenuity  or  skill 
will  be  needed  for  his  new  enterprise.  He  is  one  of  a 
little  group  which  proposes  to  conquer  the  prejudices 
and  to  change  the  habits  and  beliefs  of  a  whole  people. 
To  many  this  seems  a  ridiculous  and  impossible  task, 
but  not  to  Tevan.  He  is  going  back  to  open  a  school 
in  his  own  village.  He  intends  to  have  a  playground 


104  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

and  to  start  competitive  sports.  He  wants  to  help  the 
poorer  Kallars  to  find  farms  on  some  of  the  public 
lands  which  the  Government  is  ready  to  give  for  the 
purpose.  Lately  the  Government  is  succeeding  in  get- 
ting panchayets,  or  village  committees  of  Kallars,  to 
be  responsible  for  ending  crime  and  helping  education. 
The  final  solution  of  the  problem  of  these  attractive 
and  promising  robbers  is  not  going  to  be  easy,  but  the 
way  seems  clear.  Seventy-five  new  schools  have  re- 
cently been  started  for  Piramalai  Kallars.  Forty-one 
of  their  boys  have  been  placed  in  boarding-schools. 
Over  a  thousand  of  them  are  already  Christians.  They 
were  at  first  distrusted  and  persecuted  by  other  Chris- 
tians, but  now  they  are  held  in  high  respect.  There 
is  every  prospect  that  many  more  will  join  the  church 
soon.  The  Indian  Church  needs  their  courage  and 
their  strength.  The  Government  and  the  mission  can 
count  on  Tevan's  help  in  all  their  plans  for  his  people. 
He  will  do  everything  in  his  power  to  see  that  they 
are  won  to  whole-hearted  discipleship  to  Christ. 

There  are  many  criminal  castes  like  the  Kallars. 
They  are  found  in  all  parts  of  India.  They  differ 
greatly  among  themselves  in  language,  in  race,  in 
methods  of  life,  and  in  work.  Some  are  bold  robbers. 
Others  confine  themselves  to  picking  people's  pockets 
in  the  streets.  Some  specialize  in  stealing  cattle. 
Others  make  and  pass  counterfeit  coins,  but  consider 
thieving  wrong.  Some  steal  by  day,  but  not  by  night. 
Others  work  only  at  night.  Many  of  these  criminal 
tribes  are  wandering  gypsy  people,  going  from  place 
to  place,  telling  fortunes,  dancing,  working  as  black- 


BORN    TO    BE    ROBBERS  105 

smiths  or  farm  laborers,  or  in  other  ways,  but  always 
with  an  eye  out  for  a  chance  to  steal.  There  are  as 
many  as  five  million  who  are  classed  as  belonging  to 
criminal  tribes  in  India.  All  teach  their  children  their 
own  particular  skill,  all  pray  to  some  deity  like 
Kuruppan  whom  they  think  of  as  helping  in  their 
crime. 

Gopal  is  a  twelve-year-old  "graduate"  of  the  regular 
school  for  thieves  run  by  the  criminal  tribe  of 
Sanaurhia  of  North  India.  He  has  skilfully  stolen 
hundreds  of  rupees'  worth  of  Oriental  cloths  from  the 
shelves  of  rich  merchants,  while  his  gang  diverted  atten- 
tion by  a  violent  quarrel  in  the  street  in  front  of  the 
shop.  But  some  day  the  merchant  will  be  too  watchful, 
and  little  Gopal  will  be  put  behind  the  bars. 

Maruti  is  a  Bowrie  by  caste.  The  members  of  his 
gang  commonly  travel  dressed  as  holy  men,  and 
Maruti  goes  as  a  chela,  or  disciple.  One  of  the  gang, 
dressed  as  a  bangle  seller,  has  gone  ahead  and  gained 
entrance  to  the  women's  quarters  of  a  rich  man's  house, 
as  is  always  possible  for  a  seller  of  these  bright  glass 
ornaments,  which  are  the  delight  of  all  Indian  women. 
He  comes  back  and  tells  the  gang  where  the  money-box 
is  kept.  That  night  the  practised  hands  of  the  Bowries, 
with  the  special  tools  which  they  always  carry  with 
them,  dig  a  hole  in  the  mud  wall  of  the  house.  Maruti 
wriggles  through  and  returns  with  the  money-box. 

Shankar  is  a  Bhampta  boy.  The  Bhamptas  are 
famous  railway  thieves.  He  and  a  fellow-Bhampta  get 
into  the  "fire  wagon,"  where,  when  opportunity  comes, 
he  slips  to  the  floor.  With  the  help  of  skilful  toes  and 
a  sharp  little  knife,  he  opens  and  rifles  the  bags  of 


106  INDIA    OJST    THE    MAECH 

the  other  travelers,  while  his  companion  covers  him 
with  his  loose  clothing. 

Gangabai  is  a  graceful  girl  of  twelve,  or  should  we 
call  her  a  woman,  since  she  is  already  married?  She 
is  a  member  of  the  gypsy  tribe  of  Kanjars,  and  so  is 
trained  to  dance  and  sing.  With  a  group  of  her  fellow- 
Kanjars,  she  went  into  a  busy  bazaar  where  one  of  the 
men  of  the  party  sat  down  with  his  drum  between  his 
legs,  while  another  got  out  a  flute.  Tom-tom-tom, 
tom-tom-torn,  went  the  drum,  and  Gangabai's  feet 
began  to  move,  and  her  graceful  body  and  arms,  to 
sway  in  time  with  the  music.  At  the  sound  of  the 
drum,  a  crowd  soon  surrounded  the  little  open  space, 
for  Indians  love  to  watch  the  nauich,  or  dance.  They 
wagged  their  heads  and  grunted  in  approval;  many 
also  tossed  big  copper  coins  to  the  players.  Meantime 
the  skilful  fingers  of  the  other  members  of  the  Kan  jar 
party  had  been  at  work  loosening  the  folds  that  held 
the  money  in  many  a  waistband.  That  night  it  was 
a  happy  party  that  gathered  for  their  dinner  in  front 
of  the  crude  little  skin  tents  of  the  Kanjars'  gypsy 
camp  out  in  the  open  country.  But  their  pleasure  was 
soon  turned  to  despair  when  a  group  of  policemen  came 
and,  finding  loot  in  the  little  tents,  marched  all  the 
men,  including  Gangabai's  father  and  her  husband, 
off  to  jail. 

What  can  be  done  with  these  millions  of  people  who 
are  using  so  much  skill  and  daring  in  injuring  other 
people,  and  who  themselves  live  such  a  pitiful  life, 
hated  and  feared  by  all  and  in  turn  fearing  ordinary 
people  as  their  enemies?  Indian  jails  are  always  full 
of  them.  Thousands  of  policemen  are  employed  in 


BORW    TO    BE    BOBBEKS  107 

watching  them.  The  midnight  roll-call  of  all  who  are 
registered  as  criminal  tribesmen  is  one  of  the  Govern- 
ment's devices  for  preventing  and  also  for  detecting 
crime.  Naturally  the  tribesmen  resent  this  bitterly, 
for  not  only  does  it  seem  to  them  a  hateful  intrusion 
into  their  home  life,  but  it  is  a  very  effective  way  of 
keeping  the  men  from  all  night  expeditions,  unless,  in- 
deed, they  can  bribe  those  who  come  to  take  the  roll. 

Simply  to  punish  those  who  are  found  out  will  not 
redeem  them.  For  hundreds  of  years  successive  gov- 
ernments have  tried  this  method,  but  the  tribes  have 
gone  right  on  teaching  their  children  criminal  ways. 
Somehow  the  whole  plan  of  life  of  the  criminal  tribes 
must  be  changed.  "Spirit  of  our  fathers,  help  us. 
Save  us  from  the  Sirkar  and  shut  the  mouths  of  the 
police."  This  is  the  regular  prayer  of  one  of  the  tribes. 
"God  has  sent  us  to  earth  to  punish  the  avaricious  and 
the  rich.  Without  us  what  would  the  judges  do  ?"  said 
one  of  them  when  he  was  on  trial. 

Can  they  ever  come  to  look  differently  upon  them- 
selves and  other  people  ?  Can  they  become  good  citi- 
zens? Yes,  they  can.  That  has  been  proved.  It  is  a 
long,  long  road.  The  habits  and  beliefs  of  generations 
do  not  disappear  in  a  night.  It  seems  almost  impos- 
sible to  change  their  attitude  of  suspicion  of  people  in 
general  and  of  government  in  particular.  Then  how 
can  these  tribes  ever  be  won  to  normal,  happy  lives  ?  By 
getting  hold  of  the  children.  That  is  the  principal 
answer.  Put  the  children  in  schools  where  they  learn 
to  think  and  act  like  other  children.  Show  them  that 
ordinary  folks  are  not  their  enemies.  Teach  them  that 
there  is  a  God  who  cares  for  them  and  their  people 


108  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

just  as  He  does  for  everybody  else.  Really  win  the 
children,  and  where  will  the  criminal  tribes  be  twenty 
years  hence  ?  A  few  old  hardened  offenders  will  be  left, 
but  young  recruits  will  not  be  added,  and  the  vicious 
system  will  be  broken. 

But  you  cannot  really  win  the  children  without  doing 
something  for  their  parents.  Moreover,  the  Govern- 
ment naturally  wants  to  stop  crime  now.  It  could  not 
be  satisfied  with  any  plan  which  would  allow  the  older 
criminals  to  keep  right  on  stealing. 

One  of  the  ways  in  which  the  Indian  Government  is 
meeting  the  situation  is  through  the  establishment  of 
some  very  interesting  institutions  called  Criminal 
Tribes  Settlements.  In  the  parts  of  India  where  such 
centers  exist,  when  a  man  is  convicted  of  crime,  his 
wife  and  children  are  put  into  the  settlement.  After 
a  time,  if  the  man  and  his  family  behave  well,  he  is 
released  from  jail  and  allowed  to  live  with  them  in  the 
settlement.  But  it  is  clearly  understood  that  the 
minute  any  of  the  family  group  commits  a  crime,  back 
he  goes  to  prison.  Sometimes  a  whole  community  of  its 
own  accord  asks  to  be  put  into  a  settlement.  They  are 
tired  of  wandering  about,  always  hounded  by  the 
police,  and  never  sure  of  getting  enough  to  eat. 

A  little  while  ago  two  hundred  and  fifty  men,  women, 
and  children  were  marched  into  one  settlement.  A 
band  of  fifteen  hundred  had  been  looting  and  terroriz- 
ing a  whole  region.  When  they  were  followed  and  dis- 
covered by  the  police,  they  scattered  into  the  woods. 
These  two  hundred  and  fifty  were  all  that  were  caught, 
and  they  were  brought  to  the  settlement  to  be  restrained 
and,  if  possible,  reformed. 


BOBN    TO    BE    BOBBERS  109 

The  keynote  of  the  settlements  is  friendship.  That 
is  the  only  power  that  can  win  these  wild  people.  Be- 
cause it  is  the  business  of  missionaries  to  show  friend- 
ship to  needy  people,  the  Government  has  quite  natu- 
rally asked  different  missions  to  conduct  such  settle- 
ments. The  Salvation  Army  has  heen  a  pioneer  in  this 
work,  but  several  of  the  most  important  settlements  are 
now  in  charge  of  other  missions — for  the  most  part 
American  missions. 

One  of  the  earliest  and  most  successful  among  these 
is  the  Industrial  Settlement  for  the  Erukalas  of  South 
India,  conducted  by  Samuel  D.  Bawden,  whose  big  body 
and  generous  spirit  give  him  an  unusual  power  over 
the  "Crims"  in  his  charge. 

Scattered  over  India  there  are  now  over  thirty  set- 
tlements for  criminal  tribesmen,  with  missionaries  in 
charge  who  know  the  language  of  the  people  and  mingle 
with  them  freely.  The  number  is  steadily  increasing, 
for  they  are  proving  a  great  success.  Some  are  very 
large  and  some,  very  small.  One  that  had  a  large 
tract  of  land  far  off  in  a  mountain  valley  started  with 
only  twelve  families  and  aimed  to  teach  them  how  to 
be  good  farmers.  At  the  opposite  extreme  is  the  set- 
tlement at  Sholapur  with  four  thousand  "crims"  from 
many  tribes  living  next  to  a  busy  manufacturing  city 
of  125,000  people.  They  earn  their  living  by  working 
as  ordinary  laborers  in  the  mills,  but  live  apart  in  a 
regular  city  of  huts  which  make  up  the  settlement. 

There  are  a  thousand  children  of  criminal  tribes- 
men in  the  schools  of  this  one  settlement — that  will 
mean  a  thousand  less  criminals  and  a  thousand  more 
intelligent  useful  men  and  women  a  few  years  hence, 


110  INDIA    ON    THE    MABCH 

if  the  schools  are  well  run.  It  is  an  intensely  interest- 
ing problem  to  know  how  to  plan  these  schools  so  as  to 
develop  all  the  keen  ability  of  the  children  and  to  direct 
their  restless  activity  into  useful  lines.  As  you  can 
well  understand,  there  must  be  activity  for  body  as 
well  as  for  mind  in  such  a  school.  You  should  see  the 
keen  look  of  enjoyment  on  the  faces  of  the  students 
when  the  time  comes  to  line  up  to  march  to  the  swim- 
ming tank  for  the  regular  plunge.  Yes,  a  daily  bath 
is  part  of  the  regular  school  routine,  and  you  can 
imagine  the  shouts  of  delight  as  the  children  jump  in. 
Then  there  is  industrial  work  in  the  school  itself  and 
drill  in  the  playground,  besides  ample  time  for  their 
own  spontaneous  games  and  for  competitive  sports, 
which  satisfy  their  inherited  desire  for  excitement  and 
exploit. 

Under  all  the  work  of  the  school  there  lies  a  simple, 
natural  Christian  motive.  The  children  all  join  in 
singing  the  Christian  hymns  and  in  repeating  the 
Lord's  prayer.  They  are  taught  Bible  stories  and  come 
to  trust  the  God  who  loves,  but  does  not  hate;  who 
wants  them  to  help,  not  to  harm  their  fellows.  In  this 
way  the  settlements  are  seeking  to  get  to  the  bottom  of 
things.  Gradually  the  children,  and  even  their  parents, 
are  coming  to  feel  that  instead  of  Kuruppan  and  many 
other  deities  who  were  supposed  to  delight  in  crime, 
they  have  a  God  who  calls  them  to  love  and  to  service. 
Instead  of  crime  seeming  to  them  right,  it  gradually 
begins  to  look  wrong.  Their  whole  attitude  of  life,  their 
way  of  thinking  and  living  is  being  transformed. 

But  the  criminal  tribes  are  wild  people,  and  they 
have  some  gruesome  customs.  When  they  are  stirred, 


BORN    TO    BE    ROBBERS  111 

they  are  like  a  herd  of  stampeding  cattle.  Those  in 
charge  of  the  settlements  have  some  exciting  experi- 
ences. Here  is  a  story  told  by  Mr.  Strutton  who  was 
in  charge  of  the  big  settlement  for  four  thousand 
"crims"  in  Sholapur  of  which  we  have  already  spoken. 
He  forbade  the  holding  within  the  settlement  area  of  an 
annual  sacrifice  of  buffaloes,  which  was  one  of  the  re- 
ligious ceremonies  of  one  of  the  tribes  in  his  care.  It 
was  not  only  cruel  and  revolting,  but  it  was  also  most 
unsanitary.  If  they  must  have  this  sacrifice,  Mr.  Strut- 
ton  insisted  that  they  go  off  somewhere  into  the  country 
to  do  it.  He  writes : 

"We  had  a  great  time  over  it.  Five  hundred  of  them 
rioted.  They  said  I  could  kill  them  if  I  liked,  but  they 
would  have  their  sacrifices.  They  even  went  so  far  as 
to  take  up  children  by  an  arm  and  a  leg  before  the 
staff  and  threaten  to  dash  their  brains  out,  swinging 
them  around  their  heads,  if  they  were  not  allowed  to 
go  on  with  their  festival  and  sacrifice.  It  was  any- 
body's show  for  a  while,  and  I  really  thought  they  were 
going  to  get  out  of  hand  myself,  as  the  women  were 
beating  their  heads  on  the  ground  and  encouraging  the 
men  to  defy  the  'sahib.'  I  locked  three  of  the  ring- 
leaders up  and  made  all  the  others  sit  down  and  talk 
it  out,  and  in  the  end,  they  gave  in.  But  it  was  a  great 
game  of  bluff  while  it  lasted,  and  though  they  had  to 
take  their  animals  two  miles  out  and  kill  them  immedi- 
ately, instead  of  by  the  old  slow-torture  process,  they 
were  in  the  best  of  humor  that  night  and  laughed  like 
children  as  they  recounted  the  row  of  the  morning 
among  themselves.  I  liberated  the  men  who  had  been 
locked  up,  after  taking  thumb  impressions  and  four 


112  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

hundred  rupees'  security  from  all  their  leaders  that  they 
would  give  no  further  trouble.  So  now  the  Dussera 
sacrifices  are  a  thing  of  the  past." 

The  Kaikadis  used  to  get  gloriously  drunk  in  con- 
nection with  one  of  their  annual  religious  festivals. 
As  a  result  last  year  they  had  a  terrible  fight,  and 
when  the  officers  of  the  settlement  tried  to  stop  it,  the 
brawlers  turned  upon  and  beat  them.  This  was  a  very 
serious  offense,  and  next  day  twenty  of  the  men  were 
sentenced  to  go  to  prison.  The  head  of  the  settlement 
gave  them  a  talk  on  the  results  of  drinking  and  offered 
to  release  two  of  the  men  at  the  end  of  the  first  month, 
if  the  entire  community  would  for  that  month  do  with- 
out drink;  to  release  two  more  after  another  month  on 
the  same  condition;  and  so  on  till  all  were  released. 
The  Kaikadis  got  together  and  decided  to  accept  his 
offer.  They  actually  carried  out  their  decision  and  gave 
up  their  old  and  honored  custom.  Instead  of  a  drink- 
ing bout,  they  substituted  a  feast  at  the  time  of  that 
festival.  In  this  way  another  vicious  custom  was  abol- 
ished. 

The  progress  of  Christianity  in  these  criminal  tribes 
has  been  greatest  among  the  Piramalai  Kallars  with 
their  thousand  converts,  but  many  are  being  won  from 
other  groups  as  well.  Here  is  the  simple  story  of  a  con- 
verted murderer  which  will  show  what  sort  of  men  and 
women  the  "crims"  can  become,  when  Christ  has  won 
them  to  Himself.  This  murderer's  name  was  Mesoba 
Lonclhe,  and  he  was  the  leader  of  a  gang  of  robbers.  As 
a  young  man  he  and  his  companions  thought  110  more  of 
killing  a  man  on  one  of  their  expeditions  than  they 
would  of  killing  a  chicken.  Mesoba  was  caught  in  a 


BORN    TO    BE    BOBBERS  113 

robbery  and  put  in  prison.  There  he  learned  to  read. 
When  he  was  on  his  way  home  from  jail,  another  robber 
gave  him  some  little  Christian  books  which  he  had  just 
received  from  a  missionary.  Mesoba  read  them,  and 
somehow  their  message  of  a  God  who  was  ready  to  for- 
give and  receive  all  men  touched  his  heart.  Then  and 
there  he  decided  that  he  would  become  a  Christian.  He 
began  at  once  to  teach  his  family  and  friends  what  he 
had  learned.  He  was  as  fearless  in  his  new  adventure 
as  he  had  been  in  robbery.  Somehow  Christianity  had 
changed  him.  He  had  had  a  terrible  temper,  but  that 
was  gone.  He  entirely  gave  up  robbing.  People  began 
to  call  him  the  "New  Man." 

The  missionary  heard  of  him  and  came  to  his  vil- 
lage where  they  started  a  little  church,  and  Mesoba, 
after  he  had  been  trained  for  the  work,  became  its  pas- 
tor. He  served  as  pastor  without  any  salary,  earning 
his  living  by  working  as  village  watchman.  By  his 
simple  faith  and  his  life  of  loving  service,  he  won  hun- 
dreds of  former  robbers  to  become  Christians.  And  the 
people  in  all  that  region  blessed  Mesoba  for  what  he 
had  done  to  make  their  lives  safer  and  happier. 

In  India  today  the  Son  of  Man  is  coming  to  seek 
and  to  save  those  who  were  lost,  and  He  is  claiming 
five  million  of  her  people  who  were  born  to  be  robbers. 
Doesn't  it  look  like  a  man's  job  to  be  His  agents  in  win- 
ning these  promising  people  ? 


VITAl  LAMP  ADA 

There's  a  breathless  hush  in  the  Close  to-night — 

Ten  to  make  and  the  match  to  win — 
A  bumping  pitch  and  a  blinding  light, 

An  hour  to  play  and  the  last  man  in. 
And  it's  not  for  the  sake  of  a  ribboned  coat, 

Or  the  selfish  hope  of  a  season's  fame, 
But  his  Captain's  hand  on  his  shoulder  smote 

"Play  up!  play  up!  and  play  the  game!" 

This  is  the  word  that  year  by  year 

While  in  her  place  the  School  is  set 
Every  one  of  her  sons  must  hear, 

And  none  that  hears  it  dare  forget. 
This  they  all  with  a  joyful  mind 

Bear  through  life  like  a  torch  in  flame, 
And  falling,  fling  to  the  host  behind — 

"Play  up!  play  up!  and  play  the  game!" 

— Sir  Henry  Newbolt 


VI 

Scouting  in  India 

THE  beautiful  hill  station  of  Kodaikanal 1  lies  on  the 
broad  summit  of  a  mighty  mountain  range  seven  thou- 
sand feet  above  sea  level.  It  is  like  going  into  a  differ- 
ent country  to  climb  the  steep  path  from  the  hot  plains 
and  to  find  ourselves  in  a  land  of  cool  breezes  and 
showers,  with  groves  of  tall,  graceful  eucalyptus  trees 
here  and  there  on  the  slopes  and  with  peaches  and  pears 
growing  in  the  orchards.  We  are  standing  near  the 
little  lake  that  nestles  among  the  hillsides  and  cottages. 

"Kodai"  is  the  most  popular  of  the  hot  weather  re- 
sorts used  by  South  India  missionaries,  and  some  of 
them  are  right  in  front  of  us  now  in  the  open  field  near 
the  lake.  At  least  two  hundred  men  and  women,  boys 
and  girls,  are  gathered  for  a  baseball  game  between  Can- 
ada and  the  United  States.  Judging  by  the  noise,  they 
are  having  a  good  time  over  it.  That  stocky  man  over  on 
first  base,  who  plays  with  a  truly  professional  air,  surely 
must  have  been  a  varsity  player!  Yes,  he  was  a  star 
ball  player  in  his  college  days.  How  he  is  enjoying 
himself,  now !  As  you  hear  him  "talk  back"  to  the  um- 
pire, you  will  scarcely  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that 
he  is  the  venerable  head  of  an  important  theological 
seminary.  That  pitcher,  who  seems  to  know  how  to 
double  himself  up  in  all  the  proper  bowknots  before  he 
delivers  the  ball,  was  also  an  all-round  athlete  in  his 
college  days  and  is  now  a  Y.M.C.A.  secretary  among 
the  students  of  India.  The  little  man  out  in  center 

i  Kody-kah'nul. 

115 


116  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECJI 

field  held  a  two-mile  record  for  several  years  before  he 
came  out  to  try  to  help  the  villagers  of  India.  In  the 
group  of  missionary  players  there  are  two  or  three 
varsity  football  men,  a  state  tennis  champion,  and  other 
real  athletes,  as  well  as  some  who  never  were  in  college 
athletics.  There  are  also  several  fine,  strapping  boys 
on  the  two  teams,  pupils  who  are  studying  in  the 
Kodaikanal  school  for  missionary  children. 

It  really  isn't  high-class  ball.  We  will  have  to 
acknowledge  that!  Some  of  these  men  have  been  out 
of  the  game  for  twenty-five  years,  and  others  never  were 
players,  but  all  are  having  the  time  of  their  lives.  When 
the  game  is  over  and  the  final  yells  exchanged,  some  of 
the  players  gather  to  talk  over  the  coming  tennis  match 
between  the  missionary  club  and  the  Gymkhana,  or  club 
of  other  visitors  at  Kodai,  who  are,  for  the  most  part, 
government  officials  and  army  officers.  That  match 
is  the  greatest  event  of  the  summer  season — and  more 
than  half  the  time  the  missionary  club  wins. 

We  shall  find  boats  on  the  little  lake  and  row  across 
to  the  school  where  its  eighty  pupils  are  getting  an 
American  education  in  the  heart  of  India.  They  are 
certainly  an  alert  and  attractive  looking  group  of  real 
American  boys  and  girls.  Incidentally,  when  they 
come  back  to  America,  they  do  well  in  athletics  and 
stand  high  in  their  classes. 

As  we  come  up  to  the  school  from  the  lake  shore  we 
find  some  of  the  boys  lying  under  a  tree  exchanging 
stories  about  their  hunting  experiences  when  they  are 
with  their  families  "down  on  the  plains."  Jack  tells 
about  shooting  a  vulture  whose  wings  measured  ten  feet 
from  tip  to  tip.  Donald  follows  with  a  story  of  stalking 


Rev.  J.  11.  Chitambar,  the  first  Indian  principal  of  Lucknow 
Christian  College,  a  type  of  the  devoted  and  capable  Christian 
leader  that  schools  and  colleges  are  sending  out  into  the  life 
of  India.  These  men  and  women  are  eager  to  give  their 
Motherland  the  greatest  service  they  can  render — that  of 
making  Christ  her  leader  and  king. 


SCOUTING    IK    INDIA  117 

a  fine,  big  deer.  Harry  describes  how  his  father  and 
he  suddenly  found  themselves  facing  a  pair  of  big 
wolves  which  were  coming  toward  them  on  a  lonely 
path.  The  wolves  got  away,  but  later  on  that  same 
day  Harry's  father  shot  a  wild  boar.  Bill  caps  the 
climax  by  telling  how,  when  he  was  off  elephant  hunt- 
ing with  his  father  and  was  lying  alone  in  the  bushes, 
a  great  Bengal  tiger  went  by  within  ten  feet  of  him. 

Between  them,  these  boys  and  girls  can  jabber  most 
of  the  languages  of  India.  One  comes  from  the  heart 
of  the  wild  Bhil  country,  another,  from  the  great  city 
of  Calcutta,  and  the  others,  from  cities  and  villages 
all  over  India.  It  took  one  of  them  five  days  to  reach 
the  school  from  his  distant  home. 

Why  are  their  parents  living  in  these  places  ?  There 
are  about  fifty-five  hundred  missionaries  settled  all  over 
India,  and  almost  half  of  them  are  from  the  United 
States  and  Canada.  Let  us  see  what  they  are  doing. 

We  shall  begin  up  in  the  foothills  of  the  Himalayas 
near  Dehra  Dun.  We  are  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of 
Indian  Boy  Scouts  gathered  around  the  camp-fire.  Evi- 
dently they  are  on  a  hike  and  are  having  a  very  good 
time  over  it.  Their  leader  is  a  slim  six-footer  and 
plainly  an  American.  Yes,  he  is  a  missionary, — and  a 
typical  one,  too, — Rev.  Henry  R.  Ferger.  A  few  years 
ago  he  was  an  American  Boy  Scout.  When  he  went  to 
India,  he  could  see  no  reason  why  Indian  boys  should 
not  have  a  chance  to  be  Scouts.  So  in  1918  he  started, 
with  fifteen  school-boys,  the  first  Boy  Scout  troop  in  that 
part  of  India.  At  about  the  same  time,  here  and  there, 
other  young  India  missionaries  who  had  been  Scouts 
at  home  were  starting  troops. 


118  INDIA    ON    THE    MABCH 

Mr.  Ferger  and  his  Scouts  are  keen  for  hikes.  Once 
they  went  to  Simla,  where  the  Viceroy  invited  them  to 
visit  him  and  give  him  a  demonstration.  That  was  a 
great  event  in  their  lives.  But  trips  like  this  one  into 
the  mountains  really  mean  the  most  to  them  all  because 
they  are  thus  brought  very  close  together.  Indian  boys 
are  wonderfully  responsive  to  their  big  white  brothers 
when  they  really  are  brothers.  Of  such  a  hike  as  this, 
Mr.  Ferger  wrote : 

"The  day  school  closed,  I  started  on  a  two-weeks' 
tramp  back  into  the  Himalayas,  with  ten  of  my  Scouts. 
.  .  .  We  carried  our  own  packs — a  new  experience  for 
them  in  a  land  which  knows  little  of  the  dignity  of 
labor  and  where  coolies  abound  at  all  railway  stations. 
Shoulders  ached  and  legs  got  tired  and  a  few  feet  got 
blisters  the  first  few  days,  but  that  soon  passed  over. 
Four  of  us  were  Christians,  one  Mohammedan,  and  six 
Hindus — four  of  these,  Brahman,  the  highest  caste. 
...  I  lived  on  Indian  food,  for  we  did  our  own  cook- 
ing. Hindus,  Christians,  and  Mohammedans  ate  to- 
gether, forgetting  caste  (sheltered  from  the  public  eye) 
and  thus  living  out  the  Scout  ideals  of  brotherhood. 
Leaves  were  used  for  plates,  and  fingers  (as  always  by 
the  natives),  to  eat  with.  It  was  an  absolutely  new 
experience  for  the  boys.  I  was  able  to  get  much  closer 
to  them  than  ever  before — especially  one  memorable 
night  when  our  bedding  did  not  arrive,  and  we  seven 
had  to  sleep  on  the  floor  on  one  thin  mattress  and  under 
one  blanket!  And  at  seven  thousand  feet  elevation  it 
was  cold,  even  inside  the  rest-house." 

With  this  background  you  can  understand  how  the 
Scout  troop  at  Dehra  Dun  has  made  its  record.  A  part 


SCOUTING    IN    INDIA  119 

of  its  last  report  reads :  "The  present  strength  of  the 
troop  is  fifty-one,  of  whom  fourteen  are  King's  Scouts. 
Of  these,  ten  have  their  first  grade  all-round  cords  (for 
six  proficiency  badges),  and  five,  their  second  grade 
cords  (for  twelve  badges).  Three  others  have  passed 
their  First  Class  tests  and  eighteen  others,  their  Second 
Class  tests.  Sixteen  are  as  yet  only  Tenderfoots,  though 
many  of  these  have  done  £art  of  their  Second  Class 
tests." 

It  is  not  so  easy  for  high-caste  Indian  boys  to  catch 
the  Scout  idea  of  service  as  it  is  for  American  boys. 
This  story  shows  how  these  boys  of  many  castes  are  try- 
ing to  be  good  Scouts.  "The  two  chief  religious  fairs  of 
the  year  in  Dehra  Dun  come  early  each  spring,  and  the 
latter  of  the  two  has  just  taken  place.  Our  Scouts  did 
splendid  work  at  these,  serving  the  people  in  many 
ways.  We  had  the  fly  of  a  tent  pitched  in  the  center 
of  the  fair,  which  was  held  in  the  streets  and  bazaars 
surrounding  the  large  Sikh  temple  here.  This  was  a 
place  where  people  could  sit  and  rest.  At  one  side  we 
had  a  low  platform  with  several  large  tubs.  These  the 
Scouts  themselves  kept  constantly  filled  with  drinking 
water  from  a  near-by  well.  It  was  quite  a  thing  to  get 
the  boys  to  draw  and  carry  the  water  themselves,  for 
usually  in  the  East  any  such  work  is  considered  be- 
neath one's  dignity. 

"The  most  interesting  task  was  down  at  the  third- 
class  ticket  office  at  the  railway  station  the  next  day 
when  the  crowds  were  leaving.  We  went  there  three 
hours  before  the  train  was  to  leave.  There  was  a  big 
crowd  about  the  ticket  office,  fighting  and  struggling  to 
get  to  it,  the  biggest  and  strongest,  of  course,  winning 


120  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

out.  We  soon  changed  that,  making  them  form  a  long 
single  line  and  gradually  take  their  turn  in  good 
American  style.  This  was  the  first  time  any  of  them 
had  ever  done  this,  I  suppose,  but  they  soon  caught  on 
and  appreciated  it,  even  if  it  was  contrary  to  their  ex- 
perience. At  times  there  were  sixty  in  line." 

Mr.  Ferger  has  now  become  Scout  Commissioner  and 
tells  of  a  Scout  Rally  of  eleven  hundred  Indian  Scouts 
who  came  together  to  meet  the  Chief  Scout,  General 
Baden  Powell.  There  are  about  twenty  thousand  boys 
in  India  today  who  are  learning  Scout  brotherhood  and 
service.  For  the  most  part,  they  are  doing  this  with 
the  help  of  such  missionaries  as  Henry  Ferger. 

But  long  before  there  was  such  a  thing  as  a  Boy 
Scout  movement,  missionaries  had  been  trying  to 
awaken  in  Indian  students  the  love  of  sport  and  enjoy- 
ment of  real  service  which  they  were  sure  were  hidden 
somewhere  in  every  true  boy.  If  you  want  to  know 
how  an  out-of-doors  Englishman  can  make  over  boys 
and  gradually  do  much  to  clean  up  the  whole  life  of  an 
Oriental  city  and  district,  get  Tyndale-Biscoe's  Charac- 
ter Building  in  Kashmir.  Tyndale-Biscoe  was  a  great 
boxer  in  college,  and  in  many  ways  a  Theodore  Roose- 
velt sort  of  man.  He  came  out  to  India  to  run  a  small 
high  school  in  Srinagar  in  the  beautiful  valley  of  Kash- 
mir. Kashmir  is  a  veritable  garden  spot  watered  by 
countless  streams  on  which  the  lazy  houseboats  move 
amid  orchards  of  plum  and  apple  and  gardens  filled  with 
roses,  while,  rising  on  every  side  are  the  mighty  snow- 
capped peaks  of  the  Himalayas.  The  people  are  fair 
and  tall,  but  rather  effeminate.  To  quote  from  Mr. 
Tyndale-Biscoe's  own  story  of  his  work  there : 


SCOUTING    IN    INDIA  121 

"Twenty-nine  years  ago,  I  found  myself  for  the  first 
time  in  Srinagar — a  huge  rabbit-warren  sort  of  place 
of  125,000  inhabitants.  All  streets  crooked,  all  streets 
narrow,  all  streets  filthy.  The  stench  of  the  city  had 
reached  me  long  before  I  entered  it.  One  would  have 
thought  that  the  streets  had  been  made  with  the  idea  of 
preventing  any  one  from  using  them;  for  instead  of 
cobbles,  stones  and  rocks  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  had 
been  thrown  down  indiscriminately  so  that  pedestrians 
had  to  pick  their  way  from  rock  to  rock,  avoiding,  if 
possible,  the  lakes  of  putrid  filth  that  lay  between. 

"The  male  sex  pushed  all  women  and  children  out  of 
the  path,  but  made  way  for  cows  and  the  pariah  dogs, 
as  the  former  have  horns  and  the  latter  possess  teeth. 
All  this,  and  much  more,  showed  me  the  lie  of  the  land 
and  the  need  of  a  change,  even  in  the  unchangeable 
East.  Now  if  one  desires  to  change  or  construct  any- 
thing, it  is  usually  wise  to  commence  at  the  bottom. 
What  better  beginning  could  one  desire  than  a  school  of 
young  boys,  and  what  better  training-ground  could  boys 
have  than  a  city  like  Srinagar  ? 

"I  shall  never,  never  forget  my  first  sight  of  the  boys 
in  the  school  hall  twenty-nine  years  ago.  Some  two 
hundred  dirty,  evil-smelling  human  beings,  squatting 
on  the  hall  floor  with  mouths  open,  a  vacant  expression 
on  their  faces,  and  with  fingers  either  messing  with 
their  faces,  noses,  or  ears,  or  else  holding  firepots  under 
their  foul  garments  shaped  like  long  night-gowns,  the 
fumes  from  the  charcoal  and  the  heat  of  their  bodies 
thickening  the  atmosphere  of  this  low-ceilinged  room. 
As  often  as  not  the  only  clean  part  about  the  Brahman 
boys  was  the  daub  of  red  paint  plastered  from  the  fore- 


122  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

head  down  the  bridge  of  the  nose,  put  on  fresh  every 
morning  by  the  priest,  to  show  that  they  were  worship- 
pers of  the  god  Siva.  These  creatures  I  was  to  call 
boys!  'Jelly  fish'  was  the  only  appropriate  term  to 
apply  to  them." 

He  determined  that  these  jelly  fish  should  become 
men,  and  he  tells  us  how  he  went  about  to  accomplish  it. 
He  could  not  imagine  a  healthy  boys'  school  without 
sports,  and,  because  the  school  was  on  the  river,  he  de- 
cided to  begin  his  athletics  with  rowing.  But  the  boys 
refused.  "No  Brahman  must  ever  use  a  paddle  or  oar, 
or  in  any  way  propel  a  boat,  as  that  would  lower  their 
caste  to  that  of  the  despised  boatmen.  .  .  .  This  prob- 
ably was  the  root  of  the  whole  business;  namely,  that 
the  act  of  pulling  an  oar  might  produce  muscle  on  the 
arms,  and,  as  muscle  was  only  worn  by  coolies,  my 
worthies  might  be  mistaken  for  such  low-caste  beings. 
~No  Brahman  had  so  vulgar  an  appendage  as  muscle  on 
the  arm." 

This  doughty  Englishman  was  not  to  be  daunted  by 
age-long  prejudices  like  these.  At  the  start  he  fairly 
forced  his  young  teachers  and  his  boys  to  row.  Now  all 
the  high  schools  of  Srinagar  have  crews  on  the  river,  and 
the  frequent  regattas  are  great  events  in  the  city.  It 
was  the  same  story  in  regard  to  swimming.  At  first  he 
threw  the  boys  into  the  river.  ISTow  several  of  them 
each  year  pass  a  test  which  requires  them  to  swim  three 
miles. 

Tyndale-Biscoe  never  forgets  that  the  aim  of  all  the 
athletics  is  Christian  service.  The  school  has  a  metal 
badge  which  the  boys  are  proud  to  wear.  It  bears  the 
school  crest  and  the  motto,  "In  all  things  be  men." 


SCOUTING    IN    INDIA  123 

They  are  taught  that  if  they  wear  that  badge,  they  must 
always  be  ready  to  help  anyone  whom  they  see  in  diffi- 
culty or  danger.  One  of  their  regular  ways  of  service 
is  to  take  the  patients  in  the  hospital  out  for  a  row  on 
the  lake.  First,  they  have  to  paddle  a  mile  to  the 
hospital  landing.  Then,  they  have  to  help  and  some- 
times even  to  carry  the  patients  the  two  hundred  yards 
from  the  hospital.  "Those  who  are  unable  to  walk  soon 
find  themselves  riding  on  Brahmans  from  the  hospital 
to  the  boats.  Mohammedans  on  the  backs  of  Brahmans ! 
No  wonder  some  of  the  Brahmans  of  the  old  school  open 
their  eyes  at  the  sight  and  mutter  mutterings.  But  the 
school  boys  take  the  patients  out  just  the  same  and 
give  them  a  fine  ride  in  the  lake,  singing  as  they  paddle. 
Before  these  boys  have  got  the  patients  back  in  the  hos- 
pital and  their  boats  back  at  their  own  landing,  they 
have  spent  from  three  to  five  hours  in  serving  their  sick 
fellow-citizens." 

And  they  do  even  more  significant  things.  Once  a 
great  flood  came  rushing  over  the  lower  parts  of  the 
city,  and  a  group  of  outcaste  sweepers  was  caught  on 
the  roof  of  a  mud  house  which  was  rapidly  dissolving 
in  the  flood.  There  were  plenty  of  boats  near  by,  but 
no  regular  boatmen  would  come  to  their  aid  because, 
forsooth,  they  were  outcastes !  Fortunately  for  them, 
one  of  the  school  boats  came  up  looking  for  chances  to 
help.  It  took  several  journeys  to  rescue  all  those  who 
were  on  the  roof,  and  as  the  work  went  on,  the  high- 
caste  boatmen  cursed  the  school  boys  for  so  defiling 
their  caste.  "But  the  boys  gave  them  cheers  for  their 
curses  and  went  right  on  till  all  the  outcastes  were 
saved." 


124  INDIA    ON    THE    MABOH 

Mr.  Tyndale-Biscoe  tells  with  just  pride  the  follow- 
ing story  of  another  flood  rescue :  "One  of  the  junior 
teachers,  a  slightly  built  fellow,  but  a  credit  to  his  ath- 
letic training  in  the  school,  was  attracted  by  the  cries 
of  many  women  huddled  together  on  a  piece  of  dry 
ground  which  was  fast  growing  less  and  less  on  account 
of  the  increasing  waters.  Close  by  were  several  boat- 
men in  their  boats,  who  were  keeping  an  irritating  dis- 
tance and  bargaining  with  those  terrified  women  for  an 
impossible  salvage.  The  young  master  was  naturally 
enraged  at  their  brutality.  Off  went  his  coat,  and  the 
next  second  he  was  in  the  flood ;  before  the  astonished 
crowd  could  gasp  he  was  in  one  of  the  boats.  Out  went 
the  boatmen,  but  not  before  the  young  teacher  had  seized 
the  paddle,  with  which  he  soon  brought  the  boat  to  shore 
and  rescued  at  his  leisure  the  crowd  of  women;  while 
the  boatmen,  robbed  of  their  prize,  vented  their  rage  in 
their  usual  way,  a  la  best  Billingsgate,  recounting  the 
terrible  things  they  would  do  to  the  young  athlete  when 
they  got  hold  of  him." 

In  1918  the  school  records  showed  the  following  list 
of  deeds  done  by  the  boys: 

Lives  saved  from  drowning  .     19 

Help  given  to  women  .     92 

Help  given  to  children  .     60 

Help  given  to  old  men  .     23 

Help  given  to  blind  folk  .      17 

Help  given  to  neighbors  .     60 

Help  given  to  animals  .     15 
Help  by  parties  of  boys  in  11  fires 

Help  by  groups  who  taught  a  night  school  several 

months 

300  sick  folks  were  taken  on  a  total  of  56  trips 
Other    services    of    many    kinds    were    rendered    by 

groups  of  boys 


SCOUTING    IN    INDIA  125 

Remember  that  the  inspiration  of  all  such  work  by 
the  pupils  and  teachers  of  this  school  is  Jesus  Christ. 
Every  student  has  as  his  first  lesson  each  day  a  study 
of  the  Bible.  There  are  other  high  schools  in  the  city 
to  which  the  people  of  Srinagar  and  the  rest  of  Kashmir 
can  send  their  boys,  yet  in  spite  of  the  shocking  acts  of 
the  boys  in  swimming  and  rowing  and  actually  defiling 
themselves  by  serving  outcastes,  and  in  spite  of  the  Bible 
study,  the  school  has  grown  in  twenty-nine  years  from 
two  hundred  students  to  fifteen  hundred.  It  is  today 
probably  the  greatest  means  of  real  progress  in  the 
whole  of  Kashmir.  The  manliness  and  enthusiasm  of 
this  unique  Englishman  are  changing  the  entire  life  of 
the  country.  Or  is  it  not  rather  the  spirit  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  Mr.  Tyndale-Biscoe  that  is  making  the 
change  ?  That  is  the  way  in  which  he  would  want  to 
have  us  put  it.  He  says :  "At  present  my  fellows  look 
at  Christ  Jesus  as  the  most  perfect  man,  who  went 
about  doing  good,  and  they  wish  to  walk  after  Him, 
and  one's  hope  is  that,  walking  after  Him,  they  will 
find  Him  and,  finding  Him,  will  trust  Him  with  their 
all  as  their  Savior  and  King,  and  go  forth  to  fight  for 
right,  not  only  with  the  school  shield  on  their  breast, 
but  under  the  banner  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  ...  I 
prophesy  that  Kashmir  will  one  day  be  won  for  Christ." 

Henry  Ferger  and  Tyndale-Biscoe  are  just  two  of 
India's  educational  missionaries.  All  over  India  you 
will  find  others,  many  of  them  young  men  and  women 
who  are  working  in  mission  high  schools  and  colleges, 
as  well  as  in  connection  with  village  schools  and  district 
boarding-schools,  training-schools  for  teachers,  medical 
schools,  and  industrial  schools. 


126  INDIA    ON    THE    MABOH 

There  are  almost  as  many  schools  for  girls  as  for 
boys — and  there  ought  to  be  still  more.  No  service 
America  can  render  to  India  is  greater  than  that  given 
by  strong,  happy,  American  college  girls  to  the  weak 
and  needy  women  of  India,  the  victims  of  so  many  age- 
long wrongs.  In  the  days  of  beginnings  of  educational 
work  for  women  a  Brahman  said  to  a  woman  mission- 
ary, "First  teach  our  donkeys  to  read,  then  teach  our 
girls."  The  great  pioneer  of  educational  missions  in 
India,  Alexander  Duff,  is  reported  to  have  remarked, 
"To  try  to  educate  women  would  be  like  trying  to  climb 
a  wall  a  hundred  feet  high,  with  nothing  but  bare  hands 
and  feet  to  help  you — such  are  the  obstacles  in  the 
way."  But  Isabella  Thoburn  and  other  women  mis- 
sionaries dared  to  believe  that  Indian  girls  could  be 
educated.  Someone  has  well  said  that  they  earned  the 
right  to  join  the  Psalmist  in  exclaiming,  "By  my  God 
I  have  leaped  over  a  wall." 

Today  women  graduates  of  mission  high  schools,  nor- 
mal schools,  medical  schools,  and  colleges  are  scattered 
over  India  carrying  sweetness  and  light  wherever  they 
go.  It  was  largely  the  faith  and  enthusiasm  of  Lilavati 
Singh,  one  of  Isabella  Thoburn's  own  students,  that  per- 
suaded her  to  open  a  Woman's  College  in  Lucknow. 
This  mischievous  Indian  schoolgirl  became  a  brilliant 
leader  of  Indian  education  and  chairman  of  the 
Woman's  Department  of  the  World's  Christian  Student 
Federation. 

Isabella  Thoburn  and  Lilavati  Singh,  working  to- 
gether, built  up  the  Isabella  Thoburn  College.  This 
has  recently  been  made  the  Woman's  College  of  the 
great  new  Lucknow  University.  It  is  about  to  move 


SCOUTING    IN    INDIA  127 

into  fine  buildings  on  a  spacious  new  campus  of  twenty- 
five  acres  where  it  can  better  meet  the  critical  needs 
of  India's  women  in  this  new  era. 

We  can  catch  something  of  the  spirit  of  this  college 
by  reading  extracts  from  a  round  robin  letter  kept  up 
by  eight  of  her  alumnse.  The  first  is  from  Sona,  a 
Hindu  girl.  "My  aunt,  who  is  my  guardian,  is,  as 
you  know,  companion  to  the  Rani  (Queen),  and  as  the 
Rani  is  absolutely  uneducated  and  really  quite  igno- 
rant and  superstitious,  I  am  acting  as  a  kind  of  private 
secretary. 

"There  is  such  an  absence  of  natural,  everyday  hap- 
piness among  our  Hindu  people.  I  do  not  know  how  to 
account  for  it.  I  think  of  this  by  myself  for  minutes 
at  a  time,  and  I  do  feel  there  is  something  unusual 
in  Christianity  to  explain  the  happiness  I  have  seen 
among  Christians.  But  I  do  not  have  much  time  for 
thinking,  for  I  am  usually  very  busy.  I  try  to  enter- 
tain the  Rani  by  telling  her  stories.  Sometimes  I  am 
even  guilty  of  tacking  on  morals,  and  even  of  'poking 
them  down  her  throat,'  which  we  were  taught  in  peda- 
gogy was  very  poor  teaching!  But  if  you  only  knew 
the  temptation!  For  instance,  she  is  so  very  unhygi- 
enic, especially  when  it  comes  to  fresh  air.  She  shuts 
herself  in  her  gloomy  apartments  and  will  not  come 
to  walk  even  in  her  pretty  garden  which  is  surrounded 
by  a  high  wall,  and  which,  therefore,  will  satisfy  Hindu 
etiquette  by  keeping  her  safely  secluded  from  the  view 
of  men.  But  lately,  by  giving  her  very  simple  talks 
on  anatomy  and  physiology,  emphasizing  the  use  of 
the  lungs,  she  begins  to  see  the  value  of  fresh  air.  I'm 
even  hoping  she'll  allow  me  to  invite  some  of  the  high- 


128  INDIA    ON    THE    MAKCH 

caste  ladies  here  to  hear  a  lecture  on  hygiene  by  'yours 
truly' !" 

The  second  is  just  a  word  from  Nirmolini — a  mem- 
ber of  a  reformed  sect.  "There  is  such  a  difference 
between  a  Hindu  school,  however  good,  and  our  dear 
old  school.  I  wish  I  knew  how  to  bring  the  spirit 
of  our  school  into  this  one.  I  am  trying  to  practice 
the  example  of  our  teachers." 

The  third  selection  is  from  Shanti,  a  Christian  wife 
and  mother.  "Dear  girls,  you  in  the  hot  plains  may 
well  envy  me  in  our  lovely  little  Himalayan  cottage. 
Well,  if  you  had  married  my  nice  minister-man,  you 
might  have  had  the  same  joyous  lot.  Of  course,  there 
are  disadvantages  of  living  seven  days  from  the  rail- 
way, such  as  having  no  congenial  children  for  our  tots 
to  play  with.  Naturally,  I  have  to  give  a  good  deal 
of  time  to  their  school,  as  well  as  the  ordinary  care 
they  require.  Yet  I  find  time  to  help  my  husband  in 
his  many,  many  and  sometimes  very  difficult  tasks. 
What  else  can  I  do,  when  we  are  the  only  relief  agency, 
the  only  village  improvement  society,  if  you  prefer,  for 
a  million  or  more  people?  By  'we,'  I  mean  our  little 
mission  station  here.  There  is,  as  you  know,  a  Mission 
Hospital  here,  which  is  closed  and  has  been  for  a  year 
for  lack  of  a  doctor  or  nurse,  so  that  I  have  to  serve 
as  doctor  and  nurse  for  our  poor  mountain  folk  for 
miles  around,  and  all  the  training  I've  had  is  from 
books !  Then  we  have  a  little  church  and  a  boys'  school, 
and  hope  soon  to  open  a  girls'  school.  Oh,  the  oppor- 
tunities are  endless,  and  if  any  of  you  need  or  want 
a  change  from  the  plains,  where  I  know  too  well  there 
are  more-than-endless  opportunities,  do  come  help  us 


SCOUTING    IN    INDIA  129 

away  off  here.  You  will  find  that  with  all  our  business, 
our  home  is  hospitable,  for  we  want  it  to  stand  for 
all  that  a  Christian  home  should  be." 

These  are  just  three  typical  graduates  of  one  of 
India's  mission  colleges  for  women.  They  are  carry- 
ing into  palace,  school,  and  home  the  spirit  of  their 
Alma  Mater. 

In  the  same  great  city  of  Lucknow  are  rising  the 
beautiful  new  buildings  of  the  Lucknow  Christian  Col- 
lege for  men.  This  college  has  over  TOO  students  in 
its  various  departments.  It  is  alert  to  meet  the  needs 
of  new  India  and  for  this  purpose  has  a  School  of 
Commerce  with  nearly  two  hundred  students.  Its  prin- 
cipal, or  president,  is  one  of  its  own  graduates,  Rev. 
J.  R.  Chitambar,  a  Christian  of  Brahman  blood  who 
has  proved  his  fitness  for  this  high  position  by  his 
work  as  a  professor  in  the  college,  as  a  minister,  and 
as  a  District  Superintendent  of  the  Methodist  Church. 
Mr.  Chitambar  will  have  several  American  missionaries 
on  his  staff.  These  men  are  proud  to  work  under  an 
Indian  of  his  ability  and  devotion. 

A  sixth  of  the  college  students  of  India  are  studying 
in  mission  colleges.  The  majority  of  them  are  Brah- 
mans  and  only  a  few  become  out-and-out  Christians,  but 
they  carry  from  their  missionary  professors  and  from 
their  Bible  study  something  of  the  spirit  of  the  Master. 
Most  of  them  become  leaders  in  reform  movements, 
and  all  their  lives  they  remain  friends  of  the  missionary 
and  of  Christianity. 

There  was  a  great  stir  all  over  South  India  a  few 
years  ago  when  two  Brahman  boys  from  two  of  the 


130  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

leading  families  of  the  great  aristocratic  city  of  Ma- 
dura decided  to  become  Christians.  Public  meetings 
were  held.  The  governor  of  the  Province  was  asked 
to  prevent  the  baptism.  Orthodox  leaders  started  a 
movement  to  boycott  all  mission  schools.  This  move- 
ment, like  many  other  similar  attempts,  did  not  suc- 
ceed. The  boys  were  baptised,  and  mission  schools 
continue  to  prosper.  An  interesting  fact  in  this  case 
was  that  the  father  of  one  of  the  boys  had  been  a 
student  at  Madura  College — a  missionary  institution. 
When  he  was  a  student,  he  had,  himself,  wanted  to 
become  an  open  follower  of  Christ,  and  now  he  abso- 
lutely refused  to  try  to  keep  his  boy  from  becoming  a 
Christian. 

All  over  India  there  are  men  by  the  thousands  like 
that  father  who  come  from  such  schools  as  Tyndale- 
Biscoe's  and  from  colleges  like  Madura  and  Lucknow. 
Even  now  they  are  doing  much  to  bring  the  spirit  of 
Jesus  into  the  entire  life  of  India.  Some  day  a  great 
Indian  leader  will  arise  who  will  win  many  of  these 
friends  and  secret  disciples  into  open,  fearless  followers 
of  Christ. 

A  surprising  fact  is  that  the  attractiveness  of  Christ 
and  his  power  to  give  India  the  leadership  which  she 
needs  today  is  being  recognized  even  by  students  and 
leaders  in  non-Christian  colleges. 

Dr.  E.  Stanley  Jones,  a  great  Christian  lecturer  to 
educated  Indians,  has  recently  completed  a  preaching 
tour  over  India.  He  says:  "Of  one  thing  we  are  as- 
sured, the  present  unrest  is  not  merely  political,  it  has 
got  down  into  the  people.  I  have  met  less  opposition 
on  this  trip  than  at  any  time  in  India. 


SCOUTING    IN    INDIA  131 

"At  Bulsar  the  crowd  was  particularly  responsive, 
and  again  and  again  broke  out  in  applause  at  the  most 
definitely  Christian  statements.  Here  our  meetings 
were  in  a  Hindu  Dharamsala,  or  Religious  Rest- 
House.  .  .  . 

"But  at  Benares — the  holy  place  of  Hinduism — the 
meetings  were  the  best  of  all.  Principal  Dhurva  of 
the  Hindu  University  and  some  of  the  Hindu  profes- 
sors of  the  University  were  secured  as  chairmen  of 
the  meetings.  The  Hindu  students  sent  me  a  special 
invitation  to  speak  at  the  University.  It  was  an  op- 
portunity to  get  right  into  the  intellectual  and  religious 
center  of  Hinduism.  I  have  never  had  a  more  respon- 
sive audience.  They  filled  the  hall  to  overflowing.  I 
was  invited  back  for  three  other  addresses.  At  one 
of  the  addresses  the  chairman  of  the  meeting,  a  Hindu 
professor,  in  his  opening  remarks,  said:  'I  have  been 
attending  the  public  lectures  at  night,  and,  while  a 
friend  remarked  about  the  speaking,  I  said  that  my 
interest  was  not  in  that,  but  in  the  one  of  whom  Mr. 
Jones  was  speaking.  There  has  never  appeared  in 
human  history  such  a  great  personality  as  Jesus  Christ. 
I  repeat  it,  Jesus  Christ  is  the  greatest  personality  the 
world  has  ever  seen.'  This  he  said  in  a  Hindu  Uni- 
versity before  a  Hindu  audience,  and  there  was  no  dis- 
sent. .  .  . 

"There  is  a  great  and  far-reaching  change  coming 
over  the  people  in  regard  to  the  attitude  toward  Jesus 
Christ:  bitter  resentment  and  antagonism  to  Western 
civilization  and  to  the  spirit  of  white  dominance,  but 
a  wondrous  drawing  toward  Jesus  Christ. 

"When  we  get  down  to  the  facts  and  face  them,  there 


INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

is  no  other  way  out  except  the  Christian  way.  .  .  .  Are 
we  not  on  the  eve  of  a  break  ?  I  believe  we  are.  How 
long  that  eve  will  be,  I  do  not  know,  but  the  break  will 
come." 

My  own  main  job  in  India  was  a  training-school  for 
male  Christian  teachers.  My  boys  and  I  had  many  a 
fine  game  of  atia-patia,  as  well  as  of  volley-ball  and 
football.  When  they  first  come  to  the  training-school, 
they  do  not  love  games  as  American  boys  do.  Many  of 
them  have  had  little  chance  to  play,  back  in  their  vil- 
lages, but  before  they  have  been  long  with  us,  they  like 
to  play  and  to  play  hard.  Our  graduates  are  scattered 
all  over  Western  India  as  Christian  teachers  and  Chris- 
tian preachers.  There  are  probably  nine  hundred  grad- 
uates of  this  school  now  at  work.  Many  of  them  live 
in  villages  where  no  other  man  can  read.  In  order 
that  each  worker  may  be  generally  helpful  to  his  village, 
our  school  gives  courses  in  agriculture,  in  first  aid,  and 
in  simple  sanitation. 

The  life  of  many  of  these  villages  is  so  low  and 
crude  that  it  takes  real  heroism  for  educated  boys  to 
cut  themselves  off  from  their  more  attractive  surround- 
ings and  to  settle  down  to  their  new  tasks.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  he  puts  his  whole  heart  into  his  work,  one  of 
our  boys  can  sometimes  change  the  whole  life  of  a  vil- 
lage, making  it  a  cleaner,  happier,  and  better  place. 
Many  of  these  boys  are  outcaste  Hindus  when  they  come 
to  us.  They  are  all  Christian  before  they  graduate. 

A  Brahman  Educational  Inspector  who  was  examin- 
ing the  training-school  said  to  me,  "I  met  one  of  your 
boys  the  other  day,  up  in  Khandesh.  He  was  way  out 


SCOUTING   IN   INDIA  133 

in  the  jungle  teaching  in  a  little  Bhil  village.  I  asked 
him  if  he  wasn't  afraid  to  stay  in  that  wild  country 
alone.  He  replied,  'No,  I'm  not  afraid  now.  I  was  at 
first.  I  almost  decided  that  I  couldn't  stay.  But  when 
I  saw  how  much  these  people  needed  a  school,  I  prayed 
God  to  give  me  courage  to  stay  on.'  That  teacher  was 
only  an  outcaste  Mahar  before  he  became  a  Christian, 
wasn't  he  ?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  "he  was." 

"Well,  where  did  he  get  the  spirit  that  made  him 
stay  on  among  those  wild  Bhils  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  think  that  it  must  have  come  from  Jesus  Christ," 
I  answered,  and  the  Brahman  Inspector  bowed  his  head 
in  assent. 

Many  other  mission  schools  are  sending  out  into  the 
life  of  India  a  constant  stream  of  thousands  of  Indian 
Christian  leaders,  many  of  them  strong  and  devoted  men 
and  women.  They  are  eager  to  give  to  their  Motherland 
the  greatest  service  they  can  render — that  of  making 
Christ  her  leader  and  king.  Would  you  not  like  such 
a  chance  as  Henry  Ferger  and  the  rest  of  us  have  to 
mold  the  lives  of  boys  and  girls  of  India  and  to  help 
them  to  become  her  true  leaders  in  this  critical  new 
day? 


As  a  business  man  speaking  to  business  men,  I  am 
prepared  to  say  that  the  work  which  has  been  done  by 
missionary  agency  in  India  exceeds  in  importance  all 
that  has  been  done  (and  much  has  been  done)  by  the 
British  Government  in  India  since  its  commencement. 
— Sir  W.  Maokworth  Young,  K.C.8.I.,  formerly  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor  of  the  Punjab 


VII 
Those  Poor  Missionaries 

If  I  were  a  cassowary 

On  the  plains  of  Timbuctoo, 
I'd  eat  up  every  missionary, 

Coat  and  hat  and  hymn-book  too. 

COME  with  me  to  Vadala  to  meet  Rev.  Edward  Fair- 
bank  who  is  a  "typical"  general  evangelistic  mission- 
ary, although  I'll  confess  at  once  that  I  never  saw  him 
with  a  black  ministerial  hat  on,  and  I  think  the  cas- 
sowary would  have  a  rather  hard  time  swallowing  any 
one  so  strong  and  substantial  as  he  is.  Vadala  is  a 
little  Indian  village  of  about  five  hundred  people, 
twenty  miles  from  the  railroad  in  the  heart  of  village 
India.  It  is  the  headquarters  of  Mr.  Fairbank's  field, 
the  Vadala  district.  This  district  covers  an  irregular 
area  of  perhaps  five  hundred  square  miles  dotted  with 
little  towns  and  villages  in  which  live  over  one  hundred 
thousand  people. 

You  will  like  Mr.  Fairbank  from  the  start.  Every- 
body does.  As  soon  as  you  look  into  his  smiling  blue 
eyes  and  grasp  his  firm  hand,  you  know  that  he  too  is 
a  good  scout.  He  has  two  outstanding  characteristics 
which  impress  anyone  who  meets  him,  vital  energy  and 
sheer  friendliness. 

For  the  sake  of  efficiency,  he  generally  uses  an  auto- 
mobile for  his  longer  trips  in  his  district ;  but  recently 
when  there  was  no  gasoline  to  be  had,  he  jumped  on 
his  bicycle  and  rode  twenty-seven  miles  into  Ahmedna- 
gar,  did  his  business  there,  and  rode  twenty-seven  miles 

back  again,  just  as  though  he  did  not  live  in  the  tropics 

135 


136  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

and  were  not  over  fifty  years  old.  He  will  tell  you 
that  it  is  the  healthy  out-of-door  life  of  the  district 
which  is  keeping  him  strong.  Once  when  he  was  rid- 
ing, he  came  to  a  river  which  was  in  flood,  as  Indian 
rivers  often  are  after  a  storm.  It  was  important  that 
he  should  get  across,  so  he  waded  right  in,  and  when 
he  could  wade  no  farther,  he  struck  out  and  swam  across 
the  rushing  stream,  bicycle  and  all. 

Somehow  his  friendliness  has  transferred  itself  to 
his  Indian  fellow-workers.  There  is  a  wonderful  at- 
mosphere of  good-will  at  Vadala.  One  or  two  Indians 
who  were  inclined  to  be  sour  and  aloof  when  they  first 
came  there  to  work,  could  not  long  resist  this  spirit 
and  soon  were  friendly  like  the  rest.  The  district  has 
more  Christians  and  more  progressive  churches  than 
any  other  in  all  that  part  of  India ;  they  take  the  lead 
in  generous  giving  and  also  in  managing  their  own 
affairs. 

There  are  forty-one  village  schools  in  the  district  into 
which  the  children  of  outcastes,  high-caste  people,  and 
Christians  are  all  crowding.  We  must  see  one  of  these 
simple  little  schools  in  its  crude  building,  with  only 
a  table,  a  chair,  a  blackboard,  and  a  map  for  furniture, 
which  yet  is  a  means  of  Christian  helpfulness  in  all 
the  village.  From  these  village  schools  come  a  con- 
stant stream  of  the  brightest  boys  to  the  boarding-school 
at  Vadala,  and  from  this,  in  turn,  to  higher  schools. 
There  are  three  villages  in  this  district,  each  of  which 
has  sent  out  no  fewer  than  sixty  boys  to  become  Chris- 
tian leaders  throughout  Western  India.  One  of  these 
boys  has  just  been  graduated  with  a  brilliant  record 
from  an  American  theological  seminary,  and  is  going 


THOSE    POOR    MISSIONAEIES  137 

back  to  be  a  leader  among  the  educated  young  men  of 
Bombay. 

All  over  this  big  district  people  of  every  sort  look 
to  the  missionary  as  their  friend.  He  has  at  Vadala 
a  dispensary  with  a  trained  Indian  doctor.  In  times 
of  plague  or  famine,  he  is  there  to  help.  The  great 
church  which  seats  thirteen  hundred  people  was  built 
in  famine  days  as  famine  relief  work.  Its  red-tiled 
tower  can  be  seen  for  many  miles  and  is  a  symbol  of 
helpfulness  to  all  that  region.  Indians  love  lawsuits, 
but  never'  a  lawsuit  goes  to  court  from  Vadala.  The 
people  bring  their  differences  to  the  missionary,  and 
he  settles  them  all  with  such  care  and  fairness  that  his 
decisions  have  always  been  accepted.  No  wonder  that 
all  classes  in  the  Vadala  District  are  friendly  and  re- 
sponsive to  Christianity. 

Once  in  famine  days  Mr.  Fairbank  was  riding  out 
from  the  city  to  Vadala  on  his  bicycle,  carrying  a  great 
bag  of  silver  rupees  for  relief  payments.  He  was  de- 
layed and  darkness  overtook  him.  In  famine  times 
men  become  desperate,  and  many  robberies  take  place. 
Suddenly  a  light  was  flashed  at  him.  He  saw  a  figure 
on  horseback  in  front  of  him,  and  he  was  told  to  halt. 
Then  someone  called,  "It  is  the  Vadala  sahib.  Let  him 
pass!"  And  he  rode  in  safety  through  the  band  of 
robbers,  carrying  his  heavy  bag  of  money.  He  was 
"their  sahib."  Even  in  their  desperate  straits,  they 
would  not  rob  him. 

So  he  goes  about  ceaselessly,  examining  a  school 
here,  preaching  in  simple,  direct  words  to  a  new  group 
there,  settling  quarrels,  conducting  classes  for  his  In- 
dian fellow-workers,  living  a  true  Christian  life  of 


138  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

service.  He  and  his  wife  are  pouring  their  cheer 
and  their  faith — their  very  life — into  the  lives  of  these 
country  people  whom  they  love.  The  friendly,  respon- 
sive Marathas,  the  thousands  of  converts,  and  the  fine 
Christians  who  go  far  and  wide  from  this  district  as 
leaders,  are  the  natural  result  of  such  service. 

When  the  hard  day's  work  is  done,  Edward  Fair- 
bank  loves  to  go  off  with  his  rifle  after  a  deer  or  play 
a  game  with  the  schoolboys  or  work  in  his  garden. 
Listen  to  his  hearty,  care-free  laugh.  How  he  enjoys 
a  good  joke !  You  never  went  on  a  hike  with  a  better 
fellow  than  he  is.  And  back  of  it  all  and  in  it  all 
is  the  sweetness  of  a  Christian  home  and  the  devotion 
of  a  wife  no  less  able  or  attractive  than  he,  who  is 
giving  herself  just  as  naturally  and  beautifully  as  he 
is  giving  himself.  A  typical  ordained  missionary!  I 
envy  any  cassowary  who  gets  him. 

Forty  years  ago  Anna  Kugler,  an  attractive  Ameri- 
can girl  of  fine  family,  set  out  for  India  under  the 
American  Lutheran  Board.  She  had  the  best  medical 
training  that  America  could  give  her.  A  brilliant 
career  opened  before  her  in  America.  But  she  had  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  a  missionary,  appealing  to  her 
to  come  out  to  help  the  needy  women  of  India.  When 
she  asked  her  Board  to  send  her,  they  replied  that 
they  were  not  ready  to  start  medical  work  and  that 
if  she  wanted  to  go  out,  she  must  go  as  a  teacher  and 
worker  in  the  Indian  home, — a  zenana  worker.  Dr. 
Kugler  accepted  this  appointment.  She  was  so  eager 
to  serve  India  that  she  was  willing,  if  necessary,  to 
give  up  her  medical  career  to  do  so.  Yet  she  had  faith 


THOSE    POOE    MISSIONARIES  139 

that  the  medical  work  would  somehow  open  up.  A 
present  of  a  hundred  dollars  made  it  possible  for  her 
to  take  a  few  instruments  and  medicines.  With  this 
equipment  and  a  brave  heart,  she  landed  in  South 
India — the  first  woman  missionary  physician  to  go  to 
the  great  Madras  Presidency  of  India  with  its  millions 
of  suffering  women  and  children. 

All  the  equipment  for  medical  work  that  she  had 
at  first  was  a  small  cupboard  with  her  few  instruments 
and  medicines.  Yet  patients  began  to  come  to  her 
from  the  day  she  reached  Guntur,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  they  came  so  fast  that  she  had  little  time  for 
zenana  work.  After  a  while  she  fitted  up  a  little  store- 
room with  a  table  and  a  few  shelves  as  her  "hospital." 
A  veranda  served  as  a  waiting-room.  Working  in  this 
way,  in  her  first  year  she  treated  six  hundred  eases. 
But  soon  the  medicines  were  exhausted,  and  the  work 
had  to  be  closed.  Dr.  Kugler  used  this  interval  for  the 
study  of  the  language  and  for  zenana  and  school  work. 
Then  her  fellow-missionaries,  out  of  their  own  meager 
incomes,  subscribed  one  thousand  rupees,  or  about  three 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  for  a  hospital.  Friends  at 
home  followed,  and  the  wonderful  medical  career  of 
Dr.  Anna  S.  Kugler  was  fairly  begun. 

At  first  the  doctor  had  often  to  submit  to  indignities 
from  bigoted  high-caste  Hindus,  in  whose  eyes  she  was 
an  outcaste.  She  wrote:  "It  is  true  that  it  was  not 
pleasant  to  be  constantly  reminded,  as  one  entered  the 
high-caste  Hindu  homes,  that  one  was  an  unclean  ob- 
ject, defiling  everything  that  one  touched.  It  was  not 
pleasant  to  have  all  the  bed  clothes  put  to  one  side 
while  one  examined  the  patient,  or  to  have  a  very  ill 


140  INDIA   ON   THE    MARCH 

patient  taken  out  of  bed  and  brought  out  into  the  court- 
yard because  the  doctor  was  too  unclean  to  go  inside. 
Neither  did  one  enjoy  stooping  down  and  picking  up 
the  medicine  bottle  because  one  was  too  unclean  to  take 
it  directly  from  the  hand  of  a  Brahman.  But  it  was 
all  in  the  way  of  opening  up  the  path  for  those  who 
came  later."  In  these  homes  she  is  now  honored. 

When  she  went  to  America  for  her  first  furlough, 
she  had  already  won  her  way  so  far  that  people  of 
every  class  expressed  their  deep  appreciation  of  what 
she  had  done,  and  when  she  returned,  three  rich  men 
of  Guntur  gave  a  hundred  rupees  apiece  for  the  new 
hospital  property.  But  it  was  hard  in  those  days  to 
get  money  for  a  hospital  for  women.  Dr.  Kugler  was 
determined  that  the  Indians  themselves  should  do  a 
part;  so  she  toured  among  the  villages,  treating  the 
peoples'  ailments  and  gathering  money.  Little  by  little 
the  hospital  became  a  reality.  First,  a  fine  site  was 
bought;  then,  the  dispensary  was  built;  then,  the  hos- 
pital itself.  All  the  time  she  was  continuing  her  deep 
interest  in  the  schools  and  other  mission  work,  for 
her  sympathy  was  as  broad  as  the  need  of  the  people. 
After  a  time  a  nurse  came  from  America.  Then  an- 
other American  doctor  was  sent  out.  After  fifteen 
long  years  of  struggle,  she  had  the  "finest  mission  hos- 
pital in  all  South  India,"  with  a  children's  ward,  ma- 
ternity block,  chapel,  nurses'  home,  and  dispensary.  In 
four  years  the  patients  treated  in  the  dispensary  num- 
bered 100,779.  Nearly  eight  thousand  operations  were 
performed,  and  over  fifteen  hundred  children  were  born 
in  the  hospital. 


THOSE    POOR    MISSIONARIES 

Two  typical  instances  of  the  influence  of  Dr.  Kugler 
were  told  recently  by  Mrs.  McCauley,  one  of  her  fellow- 
missionaries  : 

In  a  second-class  railway  carriage  on  the  train  from 
Guntur  to  Bezwada  sit  a  Brahman  gentleman  and  his  wife 
and  a  missionary  lady,  all  traveling  by  the  night  mail  to 
Bezwada.  After  a  little  friendly  inquiry,  the  Brahman 
gentleman  tells  the  missionary  this  story  of  his  recent  visit 
to  Guntur. 

'^Yes,  madam,  my  wife  and  I  have  been  staying  here 
in  Guntur  for  the  past  month  in  order  that  my  wife  might 
have  treatment  at  Kugler's  hospital.  My  wife  has  not  been 
well  for  a  long  time,  and  I  have  spent  much  on  native 
doctors,  all  to  no  avail.  Finally  a  friend  of  mine  in  our 
town  in  the  Kistna  district  urged  me  to  bring  her  here 
to  Dr.  Kugler  for  treatment,  and  I  am  glad  to  tell  you 
that  today  she  is  going  home  well.  Yes,  Dr.  Kugler  is  a 
goddess,  madam,  no  ordinary  wom<an.  We  think  she  must 
be  an  incarnation  of  Lakshmi  (Goddess  of  Healing). 
Otherwise,  how  could  she  do  all  the  wonderful  things  she 
does?  I  am  quite  powerless  to  express  my  gratitude  to 
her  for  all  the  pains  she  took  to  cure  my  wife. 

"Yes,  she  told  my  wife  much  about  Jesus  Christ,  whom 
she  seems  to  love  very  much.  When  I  was  a  student  in 
college,  I  too  learned  about  Jesus  Christ,  but  I  did  not 
know  before  I  met  Dr.  Kugler  that  anyone  could  be  so  self- 
sacrificing  for  the  sake  of  any  god.  Why,  madam,  she 
used  to  get  up  any  time  in  the  night  and  come  to  my  wife's 
bedside  to  see  how  she  was,  and  she  herself  came  every 
Sunday  afternoon  and  talked  to  my  wife  about  Jesus 
Christ  and  how  He  could  heal  her  if  she  sought  Him. 
Well,  I  intend  to  try  to  follow  Him  more  myself  after  this, 
for  I  have  seen  how  He  can  send  a  woman  away  out  to 
this  country  from  far-away  America  to  give  her  life  and 
all  she  is  to  help  the  women  of  this  country,  just  because 
she  loves  Jesus  Christ." 

The  scene  changes.     This  time  a  poor  Sudra  woman  is 


142  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

just  leaving  the  hospital  with  her  little  eight-year-old  girl 
who  had  been  badly  gored  by  an  angry  buffalo.  The  child's 
face  was  torn  partly  off  by  the  buffalo,  and  the  whole  cheek 
had  been  skilfully  sewed  up  by  Dr.  Kugler;  and  now  after 
several  weeks  the  mother  is  starting  out  to  return  with  her 
little  girl  entirely  healed,  to  her  village  some  thirty  miles 
away.  The  poor  mother,  after  presenting  some  fruit  and 
a  couple  of  rupees,  as  her  offering  to  the  hospital,  falls  at 
Dr.  Kugler's  feet,  with  her  hands  clasped,  and  says :  "Oh, 
Amma,  what  are  these  small  gifts  compared  with  all  I  owe 
you?  I  am  a  poor  worm.  You  are  a  great  and  powerful 
mother.  You  have  had  compassion  on  me  and  have  healed 
my  child.  She  would  have  died  but  for  you.  Even  had 
she  lived,  she  would  have  been  terribly  deformed,  and  I 
could  never  have  found  a  husband  for  her.  Now  she  is 
going  out  with  only  a  slight  scar.  This  is  all  due  to  your 
great  love  and  goodness.  Surely  I  will  remember  this 
Yesu  Swami  about  whom  you  have  told  me,  because  I 
know  you  bow  to  Him  only.  Yes,  He  must  be  a  very  great 
Swami  to  have  such  a  follower  as  you,  and  hereafter  I 
shall  pray  to  Him,  and  not  to  Krishna  and  Hanuman,  as 
I  used  to,  for  now  I  know  that  He  must  be  the  true  God." 

One  of  the  staunchest  friends  of  Dr.  Kugler  is  an 
Indian  Rajah,  M.  Bhuyanga  Rao  Bahadur  of  Ellore. 
Dr.  Kugler  had  restored  his  beloved  wife,  the  Rani 
(Queen)  Chinnamma  Rao  to  health.  Later  she  had 
saved  the  life  of  his  son  and  heir.  When  he  asked 
what  he  might  do  to  show  his  gratitude,  Dr.  Kugler 
suggested  that  he  build  a  rest-house  in  which  Hindu  rel- 
atives could  stay  while  attending  patients  who  were 
in  the  hospital.  This  Rajah  got  two  other  Indians 
to  give  the  land,  and  he  built  the  rest-house.  But 
that  was  not  all.  He  had  wanted  to  know  the  secret 
of  her  power,  and  she  had  told  him  that  it  was  in 
Jesus  Christ  and  had  given  him  a  copy  of  the  New 


THOSE    POOR    MISSIONARIES  143 

Testament.  He  eagerly  read  the  book  and  saw  in  it 
the  medicine  that  his  land  needed  even  more  than 
physical  healing.  So  he  translated  it  into  Telugu 
poetry  which  Brahmans  and  all  educated  Telugus  would 
delight  to  read.  When  the  new  rest-house  was  dedi- 
cated, he  gave  away  five  hundred  copies  of  his  transla- 
tion to  the  guests.  His  youngest  child  is  named  An- 
namma  in  honor  of  the  doctor.  On  his  very  letterhead 
this  Brahman  Rajah  has  printed  a  picture  of  the  Christ 
whom  he  now  regards  as  the  hope  of  India  and  whom, 
as  he  says  in  the  preface  to  his  translation,  he  first 
saw  reflected  in  the  pure  and  beautiful  life  of  this 
American  doctor. 

The  British  Government  has  twice  recognized  the 
services  of  Dr.  Kugler  to  India  by  giving  her  "honors." 
But  it  is  the  love  of  the  people  which  is  her  priceless 
decoration.  Mrs.  McCauley  says:  "We  make  bold 
to  say  that  no  white  person  in  all  the  Telugu  country 
.  .  .  populated  by  more  than  twenty  million  people, 
is  so  widely  known  and  revered  as  Dr.  Kugler.  She 
is  honored  by  government  officials  both  English  and  In- 
dian, by  the  educated  Brahman  lawyer,  by  the  prosper- 
ous merchant,  by  the  thrifty  farmer,  by  the  poor  out- 
caste  Christian — by  all  classes.  All  seek  to  do  her 
honor.  All  seek  her  presence  and  help  in  times  of 
trouble  and  her  approbation  and  praise  in  times  of 
success  and  prosperity." 

In  her  office  she  has  hanging  this  motto :  "Ourselves 
your  servants  for  Jesus'  sake,"  and  most  wonderfully 
does  she  carry  out  its  ideal  in  her  daily  life  of  service 
to  the  women  and  children  of  India. 


144  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

Dr.  Kugler's  hospital  is  one  of  a  great  chain  of  mis- 
sionary hospitals  and  dispensaries  which  you  can  now 
find  over  India.  There  are  five  hundred  of  them  in  all. 
Some  are  as  crude  and  primitive  as  that  with  which 
Dr.  Kugler  began.  Others  are  great  plants.  Training- 
schools  are  preparing  Christian  nurses.  Several  medi- 
cal schools  have  arisen  to  train  Indian  men  and  women 
to  go  out  as  Christian  doctors  to  bring  healing  to  the 
millions  of  Indians  who  now  suffer  without  help  or  hope. 

When  a  particularly  severe  epidemic  of  bubonic 
plague  broke  out  in  Ahmednagar,  the  people  of  every 
class  came  to  us  and  said,  "If  you  will  send  for  Dr. 
Beals,  we  will  be  inoculated."  We  missionaries  had 
been  doing  everything  in  our  power  for  years  to  show 
the  people  of  Ahmednagar  the  value  of  inoculation 
against  plague.  They  had  seen  our  two  thousand  Chris- 
tians in  the  city  go  through  epidemic  after  epidemic 
with  scarcely  a  death,  while  they  themselves  were  dying 
by  the  hundreds.  Yet  we  had  not  been  able  to  over- 
come their  prejudice  against  inoculation.  Ten  years 
before,  Dr.  Beals  had  worked  in  Ahmednagar  for  a 
short  time.  He  had  had  only  a  poor  dispensary  off  on 
one  side  of  the  city,  yet  somehow  he  had  won  the 
confidence  of  the  people  in  such  a  way  that  they  came 
to  tell  us  that  they  were  now  ready  to  give  up  their 
prejudice  and  be  inoculated  if  only  he  would  come  to  do 
it.  A  telegram  was  sent  to  Dr.  Beals,  and  he  left  the 
work  at  his  hospital,  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles 
away,  and  came. 

When  the  people  of  Ahmednagar  heard  the  news, 
crowds  thronged  the  mission  high  school  compound 
where  he  was  to  work.  Competent  native  doctors  were 


THOSE    POOR    MISSIONARIES  145 

there  to  take  care  of  those  who  would  go  to  them. 
Dr.  Ruth  Hume  was  in  another  room  inoculating  the 
women.  Dr.  Beals  spent  three  very  busy  days  in 
Ahmednagar,  on  one  of  them  inoculating  over  a  thou- 
sand people.  As  a  result  of  this  campaign,  the  old 
prejudice  of  the  city  against  inoculation  was  broken. 
Now  when  plague  comes,  people  of  all  classes  are 
eager  to  be  inoculated.  In  this  way  every  year  hun- 
dreds of  lives  are  saved  largely  because  of  the  confidence 
awakened  in  the  people  by  a  modest  American  medical 
missionary,  in  whose  service  the  people  sensed  some- 
thing of  the  love  of  Him  who  went  about  healing  the 
sick. 

Almost  every  missionary  in  India  has  to  be  more 
or  less  of  an  assistant  medical  missionary.  There  is 
so  much  sickness  all  about,  some  of  which  needs  only 
a  little  intelligent  care,  that  we  simply  have  to  lend 
a  hand.  There  are  children  whose  eyes  are  infected 
and  who  are  neglected  until  their  eyes  are  injured 
for  life  or  until  they  go  blind.  All  they  need  is  a 
little  attention  and  a  simple  remedy  to  save  them  from 
this  calamity.  Every  morning  there  used  to  gather 
on  our  veranda  a  group  of  Indians  with  various  ail- 
ments to  be  treated  by  Mrs.  Clark.  The  worst  cases 
she  sent  to  the  hospital,  but  her  own  brief  hospital 
training  came  into  daily  use  as  she  cared  for  the 
simpler  cases  in  her  little  veranda  dispensary.  Often 
when  I  went  among  the  villages  I  took  with  me  an 
Indian  medical  man,  or,  if  that  was  not  possible,  at 
least  a  supply  of  quinine  for  malaria  and  potassium 
permanganate  to  disinfect  the  village  wells  in  time  of 
cholera.  Whole  villages  are  exposed  to  that  terrible 

f 


146  INDIA    ON    THE    MAKCH 

disease,  and  thousands  of  people  die  through  the  use 
of  impure  water,  when  the  main  remedy  that  is  needed 
is  a  little  disinfectant  for  the  village  well.  I  suppose 
that  almost  every  district  missionary  is  the  means  of 
saving  many  lives  by  his  simple  efforts  to  help  meet 
diseases  and  epidemics. 

Everyone  knows  something  about  that  terrible,  loath- 
some disease  of  leprosy,  which  rots  away  its  victims' 
bodies  little  by  little — a  living  death.  Indians  fear  this 
disease,  yet  lepers  are  allowed  to  live  on  in  their 
villages  and  even  in  their  own  homes,  exposing  others 
to  the  dreaded  infection.  Probably  there  are  250,000 
lepers  in  India.  Missionaries,  both  medical  and  non- 
medical,  try  to  do  what  they  can  to  help  them.  To 
make  their  lives  happier  and  to  protect  their  relatives 
and  friends  from  the  disease,  leper  asylums  have  been 
opened  in  many  places,  and  missionaries  try  to  bring 
whatever  they  can  of  brightness  and  cheer  and  love 
into  these  refuges.  Here  lepers  are  given  the  wonder- 
ful new  treatment  which  may  turn  out  to  be  a  real 
cure.  They  are  given  gardens  of  their  own  to  work 
in  and  opportunities  to  satisfy  other  human  interests. 
Even  more  important,  they  receive  what  one  of  these 
missionaries  calls  the  "Christ-treatment;  something  of 
love  and  kindness ;  someone  to  care  for  them  and  bring 
relief." 

In  India  missionaries  are  at  work  in  sixty-one  leper 
asylums  and  homes  for  the  untainted  children  of  lepers. 
Some  of  you  have  heard  of  Mary  Reed,  the  American 
missionary,  who,  when  she  was  in  America  on  fur- 
lough, found  that  she  had  leprosy.  Without  a  word 


THOSE    POOR    MISSIONAEIES  147 

to  her  friends  about  it,  she  went  back  to  India  and 
is  now  in  charge  of  a  beautiful  leper  asylum  where 
she  is  giving  her  life  for  her  Indian  fellow-sufferers. 
It  is  indeed  touching  to  know  how  real  is  the  in- 
terest of  these  lepers  in  others.  Their  church  comes 
to  mean  much  to  them.  They  give  of  their  scanty 
money  to  all  sorts  of  Christian  causes.  I  have  never 
heard  a  more  beautiful  story  of  real  Christian  experi- 
ence than  that  of  an  Indian  leper  girl  in  Sam  Higgin- 
bottom's  asylum  at  Naini.  I  first  heard  Mr.  Higgin- 
bottom  tell  the  story  in  India,  but  anyone  may  now 
read  it  in  his  book  The  Gospel  and  the  Plow.  Her 
name  was  Frances,  and  she  was  a  refined,  educated 
Christian  girl.  Somehow  she  became  infected;  the 
unmistakable  sores  of  leprosy  appeared  on  her  fingers, 
and  she  was  sent  to  the  asylum.  When  she  first  caught 
sight  of  the  wrecks  of  women  who  were  there,  she 
turned  in  despair  and  exclaimed,  "My  God,  am  I  going 
to  become  as  they  are!"  But  some  days  later  when 
she  had  become  a  little  more  accustomed  to  her  new 
life,  Mr.  Higginbottom  proposed  to  her  that  she  try 
to  use  her  own  education  in  helping  the  women  and 
children  to  read  and  write  and  sing.  Gradually  a 
change  came  over  the  whole  life  of  the  asylum  as  a 
result  of  her  loving  service,  and  with  it  a  change  came 
in  herself.  One  day  after  she  had  begun  working  for 
her  fellow-lepers  some  time,  she  opened  her  heart  to 
the  American  woman  doctor.  She  told  her  that  at  first 
she  had  rebelled  against  her  fate,  but  that  gradually 
she  had  come  to  see  that  God  had  brought  her  there 
because  He  needed  her  to  work  for  the  lepers.  If  she 
had  not  become  a  leper,  she  would  never  have  discovered 


148  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

her  work.  She  ended  her  confession  with  these  won- 
derful words:  "Every  day  I  live  now,  I  thank  Him 
for  having  sent  me  here  and  given  me  this  work  to  do." 
Sam  Higginbottom  says:  "The  disease  has  worked 
its  way  in  her.  But  her  face  is  always  radiant,  a  smile 
plays  about  that  pain-wrought  face.  No  word  of  com- 
plaint, ever  a  word  of  cheer  for  him  that  is  weary. 
Most  of  the  women  of  the  Asylum  are  now  Christians, 
after  having  confessed  their  faith  in  the  God  and 
Savior  they  have  learned  to  know  through  Frances." 

You  have  seen  how  poor  the  people  of  India  are, 
especially  the  outcastes.  Probably  there  are  sixty  mil- 
lion who  do  not  get  enough  to  eat  except  during  the 
harvest  time.  Is  it  part  of  the  missionary's  job  to 
try  to  help  them  earn  a  better  living  ?  The  missionary 
answers  emphatically,  "Yes!  Jesus  fed  the  hungry, 
and  we  would  not  be  true  disciples  of  our  Master  if 
we  did  not  try  to  help  men  and  women  and  little  chil- 
dren to  get  enough  to  eat  and  enough  to  wear."  Our 
village  schools  with  their  500,000  pupils  help.  It  is  not 
so  easy  for  the  money  sharks  of  India,  who  always 
prey  upon  the  poor,  to  get  into  their  clutches  men 
who  can  read  and  figure.  Moreover,  thousands  of  boys 
and  girls  from  dark,  one-room,  poverty-stricken  homes 
have  gone  through  the  village  school  into  higher  educa- 
tion and  are  now  earning  fair  incomes  as  doctors,  nurses, 
clerks,  teachers,  or  workers  in  other  useful  callings. 

Another  way  in  which  the  missionaries  try  to  help 
is  through  Cooperative  Credit  Societies.  Have  you 
ever  heard  of  a  missionary  banker?  Come  to  Jalna, 
and  I  will  show  you  one  who  has  been  decorated  by 


Dr.  Anna  S.  Kuglor  working  with  her  clerk  at  the  Guntur 
Hospital  which,  under  lur  leadership,  developed  in  fifteen  years 
from  a  medicine  chest  to  one  of  the  largest  and  finest  mission 
hospitals  in  South  India,  with  maternity  block,  chapel,  nurses' 
home,  and  dispensary. 


THOSE    POOR    MISSIONARIES  149 

the  Government  for  his  services.  Rev.  W.  E.  Wilkie- 
Brown  is  another  "typical"  missionary,  a  kindly,  vigor- 
ous Scotchman.  He  found  many  of  the  villagers  of 
the  Jalna  district  practically  the  slaves  of  the  money 
lender.  They  had  to  have  money  for  seed  every  rainy 
season,  and  they  had  no  money  to  buy  it  with,  so  that 
they  had  to  borrow  from  the  money  lender,  who  was 
willing  to  accommodate  them  for  a  little  matter  of 
sixty  or  eighty  per  cent  a  year.  Once  in  the  hands  of 
the  money  lender,  the  poor  man  never  gets  out.  He 
toils  on,  and  his  wife  and  children  toil  on.  They  keep 
paying  of  their  little  earnings  on  their  debt,  but  it  does 
not  grow  less.  A  wedding  comes,  or  sickness,  and 
more  debt  and  more  interest  are  added.  Finally,  mil- 
lions of  poor  people  in  India  give  up  all  hope  of  ever 
being  free  from  the  money  lender  and  lose  interest 
in  their  work.  They  become  careless  and  shiftless  as 
well  as  hopeless. 

To  help  such  poor  people,  Mr.  Wilkie-Brown,  with 
the  help  of  the  Government,  started  a  Cooperative 
Credit  Society  with  a  bank  which  lends  money  to  mem- 
bers of  the  Society  at  nine  per  cent  interest.  Every 
member  of  the  Society  is  responsible  to  pay  back  every 
loan  the  bank  makes  to  every  other  member,  as  well 
as  those  it  makes  to  him.  When  they  combine  in  this 
way,  even  the  poor  Indians  have  strength.  First  they 
borrow  enough  money  to  repay  what  they  owe  to  the 
money  lender.  Then  they  receive  another  loan  for 
seed  or  for  a  pair  of  bullocks  to  cultivate  their  land  or 
to  buy  an  improved  steel  plow  or  to  dig  a  well  for 
irrigation.  With  their  old  debts  wiped  out  and  with 
a  chance  to  get  on  their  feet,  they  go  back  to  their 


150  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

villages  new  men.  They  have  been  hopeless  slaves. 
Now  they  are  free.  Life  has  a  new  meaning  to  them. 
There  is  hope  for  their  children  now  that  they  are 
no  longer  in  the  clutches  of  the  money  lender. 

Mr.  Wilkie-Brown  will  take  us  to  his  desk  and  let 
us  see  his  big  books  full  of  neatly  kept  accounts.  He 
will  tell  us  the  story  that  lies  back  of  some  of  these 
accounts — whole  communities  made  over  from  shift- 
less, hopeless,  weak,  day  laborers  into  thrifty,  happy 
farmers,  with  enough  to  eat  to  keep  their  families 
well  and  enough  laid  by  to  pay  back  their  loans. 

"Do  they  really  pay  back  ?"  we  ask  Mr.  Wilkie-Brown. 
"Yes,  they  do,"  he  replies.  "Sometimes  it  comes  hard, 
especially  when  the  harvests  fail,  but  somehow  they 
manage  to  do  it."  Then  he  turns  to  us  with  a  con- 
tagious smile  of  enthusiasm  and  says  something  like 
this :  "The  best  of  it  all  is  the  way  this  thing  is  making 
over  the  entire  life  of  the  village.  The  members  of 
the  society  have  to  be  interested  in  each  other  now. 
They  all  make  it  a  business  to  see  that  no  member  is 
lazy  or  extravagant,  and  they  help  out  members  who 
are  sick  or  in  hard  luck.  Wherever  they  have  societies, 
they  are  asking  for  schools.  Hundreds  of  them  want 
to  become  Christians  as  a  result  of  our  cooperative 
credit.  It  is  the  most  effective  way  I've  ever  found 
for  preaching  the  gospel." 

Many  other  missionaries  are  helping  to  put  new 
hope  into  India's  people  through  cooperative  credit 
societies.  Indeed  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa- 
tion has  established  a  special  Rural  Department  which 
is  spreading  the  gospel  of  thrift  through  cooperative 
credit  in  many  parts  of  India. 


THOSE    POOB,    MISSIONAEIES  151 

Dotted  over  India  there  are  missionary  industrial 
schools  where  boys  and  girls  are  being  taught  how  to 
run  an  automobile  or  how  to  make  lace,  how  to  pro- 
duce good  furniture  or  how  to  grow  twice  as  large 
a  crop  as  the  old  methods  make  possible. 

In  one  of  these  schools  Mr.  Hollister  of  the  American 
Methodist  Board  manufactured  steel  plows  especially 
adapted  to  Indian  needs.  He  taught  many  boys  to 
make  a  good  living  in  the  manufacture  of  the  plow. 
He  also  helped  raise  the  level  of  agriculture  wherever 
his  plows  went. 

Mr.  Churchill  of  the  Congregational  Board  taught 
his  boys  on  his  improved  losm  how  to  weave  Indian 
cloth  more  than  twice  as  fast  as  they  could  on  the  old 
village  loom. 

Mr.  Higginbottom  of  the  Presbyterian  Board,  whose 
interesting  little  book  we  have  already  referred  to,  is 
teaching  his  boys  how,  by  the  use  of  better  seed  and 
by  properly  preparing  the  soil,  they  can  raise  a  crop 
which  will  be  twice  as  profitable  as  the  old  Indian 
methods  would  produce. 

I  am  sitting  in  my  school  office  when  a  teacher  comes 
to  me.  "It's  no  use,  Sahib,"  he  says.  "Nama  and 
Ganpat  and  Maruti  and  about  eight  more  of  those  big 
boys  simply  can't  learn  English.  They  are  holding 
back  the  entire  class." 

"We  will  have  to  do  something  about  it,"  I  reply. 
As  soon  as  possible  we  secure  a  jack-of -all-trades,  who 
is  mostly  a  mason  and  carpenter,  and  who  is  also  a 
good  practical  teacher — a  very  rare  man  in  India. 
With  a  rough  shed  as  a  shop,  he  begins  working  with 
these  big  boys.  Soon  there  is  a  change  in  the  very 


152  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

look  of  their  faces.  They  have  been  dull  and  sullen 
before.  They  simply  are  not  fitted  for  higher  studies, 
and  they  do  not  like  regular  school  life.  But  they  do 
like  this  work  with  stone  and  wood.  The  class  makes 
rapid  progress.  After  a  time  we  send  them  out,  and 
they  actually  build  a  schoolhouse  from  the  ground  up, 
and  they  do  the  job  well.  Before  long  they  are  all  out  at 
work  for  good  wages,  as  Indian  wages  go,  and  are 
sturdy  intelligent  members  of  the  community  and  the 
church.  Whenever  I  meet  one  of  them,  he  gives  me 
a  grateful  salaam  for  my  part  in  getting  him  started 
in  life.  Not  all  industrial  mission  work  can  be  so 
simple  or  so  quickly  successful  as  this  was.  Many  mis- 
sion industrial  enterprises  have  failed;  but  more  and 
more  of  them  are  succeeding  in  helping  the  poorer  peo- 
ple of  India. 

What  is  the  missionaries'  job  ?  You  have  seen  them 
off  on  hikes  with  Indian  boys,  settling  village  quarrels, 
saving  life  in  hospital  and  hut,  teaching  poverty- 
stricken  people  how  to  earn  a  living.  Are  the  mis- 
sionaries right  in  calling  all  of  these  things  missionary 
work?  In  which  kind  of  work  would  you  most  like 
to  share? 

Sam  Higginbottom  goes  to  the  heart  of  the  matter 
when  he  writes : 1 

I  think  again  of  that  great  picture  drawn  for  us  in  the 
twenty-fifth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew's  Gospel.  The  nations 
are  separated  from  one  another  as  a  shepherd  separates 

i  The  Gospel  and  the  Plow,  Sam  Higginbottom,  Macmillan  Co., 
pp.  136-137. 


THOSE    POOR    MISSIONARIES  153 

the  sheep  from  the  goats.  The  sheep  on  his  right  hand, 
the  goats  on  his  left.  To  those  on  his  right  hand  He  says, 
"Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  pre- 
pared for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world.  .  .  ." 
They  say  unto  Him,  "Why,  Lord,  for  what  do  you  call  us 
blessed  ?  What  have  we  ever  done  ?"  And  Jesus  says,  "Ye 
saw  me  hungry,  and  ye  gave  me  to  eat."  They  say,  "Hold 
on  there,  Lord,  are  you  not  going  too  fast?  making  some 
mistake?  We  never  saw  you,  let  alone  saw  you  hungry." 
"Oh,  yes,  you  did,"  Jesus  says.  "When  you  went  to  that 
little  famine-cursed  Indian  village  that  had  been  growing 
ten  bushels  of  wheat  per  acre  and  you  taught  it  to  grow 
twenty,  you  were  helping  to  feed  the  hungry.  When  you 
went  to  that  village  that  was  growing  sixty  pounds  of  poor, 
short-staple  cotton  per  acre  and  taught  them  to  grow  three 
hundred  pounds  per  acre  of  good,  long-staple  cotton  you 
were  helping  to  clothe  the  naked.  When  you  went  to  that 
village  where  the  well  had  dried  up  and  you  sent  a  boring 
outfit  and  bored  down  until  you  had  secured  an  abundant 
supply  of  water,  enough  for  man  and  beast  and  some  over 
for  irrigation,  you  were  helping  to  give  drink  to  the  thirsty. 
When  the  doctor  opened  his  hospital  for  the  poor  and  lowly 
who  otherwise  would  have  no  medical  aid,  he  was  visiting 
the  sick.  When  you  went  to  India's  outcastes,  to  her  'un- 
touchables' whom  man  despiseth,  who  have  suffered  age- 
long, untellable  wrongs  in  the  fearful  prison  of  caste,  and 
freed  them  from  its  bondage  and  caused  them  to  walk  as 
free  men,  that  was  done  unto  Me."  "Lord,  we  never 
thought  of  You  there  or  in  that  degraded  state."  "Oh, 
yes;  take  the  veil  from  that  little  humble  Indian  village 
outcaste,  I  am  there.  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  to  the  lowest 
and  meanest  of  India's  outcastes,  ye  did  it  unto  Me." 

There  is  work — glorious,  fascinating,  adventuresome 
work  in  India  for  each  one  of  us.  Where  is  it  and 
what  is  it? 


There  are  many  beautiful  things  in  Hinduism,  but  the 
fullest  light  is  from  Christ  .  .  .  Hinduism  has  been 
digging  channels.  Christ  is  the  water  to  flow  through 
these  channels. — Sadhu  Sundar  Singh 


VIII 

Christians  Who  Count 

ONE  of  the  most  beautiful  sections  of  India  is  the 
Malabar  Coast  country,  which  lies  to  the  far  southwest. 
About  fifty  miles  inland  rise  the  high,  wooded  moun- 
tains which  cut  this  country  off  from  easy  contact  with 
the  rest  of  Irreia.  Parallel  with  the  coast  and  pro- 
tected from  the  lea  by  a  long  neck  of  land  are  quiet 
backwaters,  through  which  our  little  steamer  slowly 
glides  as  we  come  to  visit  this  land  of  tropical  luxuri- 
ance. It  is  a  veritable  Garden  of  Eden,  with  its 
many  little  rivers,  its  great  groves  of  coconut  and 
banana  palms,  and  its  pepper  vines  twined  among 
the  trees.  Yet  it  is  not  the  charm  of  the  country  which 
draws  us  here.  It  is  the  unique  interest  of  some  of  its 
people,  for  this  is  the  home  of  one  of  the  oldest  and 
most  significant  groups  of  Christians  in  the  world. 

In  the  summer  of  1921  Christian  Endeavorers  came 
from  all  over  America  and  beyond  to  ]STew  York  for 
a  great  convention.  A  mighty  and  inspiring  throng 
of  sixteen  thousand  assembled  there.  It  was  a  great 
meeting.  But  every  year  about  thirty  thousand  of 
these  Malabar  Christians  gather  in  a  mammoth  palm- 
leaf  pavilion  in  a  dry  river  bed  for  a  religious  con- 
vention. And  bear  it  in  mind  that,  except  as  an  in- 
vited guest,  no  missionary  has  anything  to  do  with  this 
convention.  The  Indians  have  entire  responsibility  for 
it.  In  Everybody's  World  Dr.  Sherwood  Eddy  gives 
the  following  vivid  description  of  the  1920  convention 
at  which  he  was  the  principal  guest  and  speaker: 

155 


156  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

On  the  platform  at  our  left  are  seated  the  white-robed 
priests  of  this  ancient  church,  and  upon  raised  seats  on  the 
right  are  the  two  bishops  in  their  purple  satin  robes,  with 
golden  girdles  and  quaint  headdresses.  One  is  of  the  old 
school,  looking  like  the  ancient  Nestorian  patriarch  of 
Antioch.  .  .  .  The  other  is  a  young  man,  modern,  keen, 
alert,  whom  we  knew  as  a  college  student  a  dozen  years 
ago,  when  he  decided,  one  night,  to  give  up  his  future 
ambition  in  the  law  and  to  enter  Christian  work.  After 
completing  his  education  in  Canada,  he  returned  to  spend 
his  life  in  vitalizing  this  ancient  church  "a  which  he  was 
born.  In  front  of  the  platform  in  this  great  pavilion  the 
Christians  are  seated.  They  have  been  gathering  from 
hundreds  of  distant  villages,  coming  up  like  the  tribes  of 
old  to  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles  at  Jerusalem.  All  are  clad 
in  flowing  white  garments  and  are  seated  on  the  dry  sand 
of  the  river  bed,  the  men  on  the  right,  the  women  on  the 
left.  As  the  people  unite  in  intercession,  you  can  hear  a 
distant  murmur  rising  gradually  like  the  sound  of  the  sea. 
A  wave  of  prayer  seems  to  sweep  over  the  vast  audience. 
The  Bishop  leads  in  a  last  prayer,  and  we  begin  the  morn- 
ing's address.  .  .  .  They  are  turning  back  to  the  primitive 
and  simple  Christianity  of  the  early  days,  with  an  open 
Bible,  fervent  prayer,  and  simple  witnessing  to  the  glad 
news  of  abundant  life.  Here  is  an  ancient  Indian  church, 
using  its  own  forms  of  worship  and  expressing  Eastern 
methods  of  devotion. 

Let  me  tell  you  a  little  of  the  romantic  story  of 
these  Malabar  Christians.  They  call  themselves  Mar 
Thoma  Christians,  "the  Saint  Thomas  Christians,"  be- 
cause they  believe  that  the  Apostle  Thomas  himself 
founded  their  church.  It  is  certain  that  long  before 
Augustine  and  his  little  band  of  missionaries  came  to 
England  in  597  A.D.,  Christian  missionaries  from 
Palestine  had  sailed  across  the  Indian  Ocean  with  their 
message  of  hope  and  joy  and  had  founded  a  church. 


CHRISTIANS    WHO    COTJ1CT  157 

Alfred  the  Great  heard  about  these  St.  Thomas 
Christians.  In  883  A.D.  he  sent  an  embassy  all  the 
way  from  England  to  India  "bearing  the  alms  which 
the  King  had  vowed  to  send — to  India,  to  St.  Thomas, 
and  to  St.  Bartholomew."  The  embassy  "penetrated 
with  great  success  to  India  and  brought  thence  many 
foreign  gems  and  aromatic  liquors."  So  you  can  read 
in  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle.  At  the  time  when 
Alfred  the  Great  sent  his  embassy,  the  Mar  Thoma 
Christians  were  in  great  favor  with  the  Rajah  of 
the  land.  They  had  been  given  the  standing  of  a 
high  caste  in  the  community  and  had  settled  down 
to  a  self-contained  life  much  like  that  of  the  Hindu 
castes.  Their  worship  was  in  the  language  of  Syria, 
which  few  of  them  understood.  Hence  it  had  become 
a  dead  form.  Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  not 
strange  that  they  sank  into  a  sort  of  sleep  for  several 
centuries,  until  they  were  violently  aroused  by  the 
coming  of  the  Portuguese  to  Calicut  in  1498. 

Imagine  the  surprise  and  delight  of  the  Portuguese 
when  they  discovered  among  the  strange  brown  people 
of  India  a  large  body  of  Christians!  And  imagine 
the  delight  of  the  Indian  Church  in  having  powerful 
fellow-Christians  from  across  the  seas  to  encourage  and 
help  them !  But  the  joy  on  both  sides  was  short  lived. 
The  Mar  Thoma  Christians  followed  the  ritual  of  the 
Eastern  Church  and  owned  allegiance  to  an  Eastern 
Patriarch.  This  made  them  heretics  to  the  bigoted 
Portuguese  who  thought  that  the  only  true  faith  was 
that  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  The  Portuguese 
at  once  set  about  to  convert  them  to  Rome,  but  these 
Indian  Christians  were  obstinate  enough  to  hold  to 


158  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

their  own  ways.  Then  the  Portuguese,  through  a  clever 
archbishop,  undertook  to  compel  them  to  ohey.  This 
archbishop  had  power  and  used  it  relentlessly.  Three 
bishops  of  the  Indian  Church  were  tortured  to  death 
through  the  Inquisition,  and  the  simple  Malabar  Chris- 
tians were  brought  to  outward  submission  which  lasted 
for  fifty  years.  But  when  one  more  of  their  bishops 
was  arrested,  their  smouldering  resentment  broke  into 
open  revolt. 

Great  crowds  of  them  gathered  at  the  sacred  Croonen 
Cross  and  there  swore  never  more  to  have  anything  to 
do  with  Rome.  All  could  not  touch  the  Cross  as  they 
swore  this  oath.  Therefore  long  ropes  were  attached 
to  it;  and  they  held  these  ropes  as  they  together  took 
the  solemn  vow  which,  as  they  well  knew,  might  bring 
upon  them  fierce  persecution  by  the  Portuguese.  It 
was  a  Declaration  of  Independence  which  took  fully 
as  much  courage  as  that  of  the  American  colonies.  ~Not 
all  the  Mar  Thoma  Christians  joined  in  this  declara- 
tion; indeed,  about  two  thirds  of  them  still  recognize 
the  Pope.  But  there  are  now  about  300,000  members 
in  the  churches  which  broke  from  the  Roman  yoke  at 
the  Croonen  Cross. 

They  did  not  become  a  strong  Church  at  once.  In- 
deed they  clung  to  their  old  ways  until  a  few  decades 
ago.  Then  under  the  influence  of  a  Church  of  England 
mission  that  had  come  among  them  at  the  invitation  of 
their  Metran,  or  bishop,  a  reform  movement  started. 
Whole  congregations  decided  that  they  wanted  to  wor- 
ship and  read  the  Bible  in  their  own  language.  !NVw 
life  came  into  the  Church.  Those  who  held  to  the  old 
ways  objected.  Again  there  were  persecutions.  A  bit- 


CHRISTIANS    WHO    COUNT  159 

ter  conservative  killed  a  liberal  preacher.  A  court  de- 
cision took  all  their  church  property  away  from  the 
reformers.  That  was  a  hard  blow,  but  they  immedi- 
ately set  to  work  to  build  new  churches.  Then  they 
established  some  fine  schools  in  which  to  train  their 
leaders.  After  a  time,  through  the  example  of  the 
English  missionaries,  they  began  to  feel  that  they 
could  not  be  a  truly  Christian  church  unless  they  in- 
terested themselves  in  the  outcaste  people  who  lived 
all  about  them;  so  they  started  a  home  missionary 
society  which  grew  until  it  now  has  over  fifty  home 
missionaries.  They  also  saw  that  they  owed  a  debt 
to  India  as  a  whole.  Consequently  they  started  a  for- 
eign mission  far  away  in  another  part  of  India,  where 
their  representatives  are  struggling  with  a  strange  lan- 
guage, eating  strange  food,  and  living  among  people 
of  strange  customs. 

The  reforming  Mar  Thoma  Church  has  only  about 
80,000  members,  and  most  of  them  are  not  rich.  But 
their  religious  faith  has  come  to  mean  so  much  to  them 
that  they  are  ready  to  sacrifice  in  order  to  give  it  to 
others.  The  women  give  a  little  out  of  every  day's 
food  supply  for  their  missionary  society.  When  a 
daughter  is  married,  the  Church  receives  a  tenth  of 
her  dowry.  These  Indian  Christians  have  invented  all 
sorts  of  devices  to  stimulate  giving  and  are  probably 
far  more  generous  in  their  support  of  their  churches 
and  missions  than  we  Americans  are  in  our  benevolence. 

When  I  was  their  guest,  one  of  them  pointed  out 
to  me  the  place  in  the  mountains  near  which  a  Mar 
Thoma  Christian  had  worked.  It  was  Rev.  W.  K. 
Kuruvilla,  who  left  his  friends  and  went  up  to  live 


160  INDIA    ON    THE    MAKCH 

among  the  wild  tribe  of  primitive  people  called  Arayans, 
whose  villages  lie  in  this  region.  These  people  lived 
a  life  so  low  as  to  be  little  above  the  animal.  They 
knew  nothing  of  cleanliness  or  of  education  till  he  came. 
But  he  went  into  their  homes,  and  with  his  own  hands 
showed  them  how  to  cook.  In  every  way  he  shared 
their  life  and  helped  them  until  thousands  became 
Christian,  and  their  whole  level  of  life  was  raised. 
To  me,  he  is  a  prophecy  of  what  these  able,  intelligent 
Mar  Thoma  Christians,  with  their  ancient  picturesque 
Christianity  and  their  new  spirit,  may  do  for  India. 
They  bring  to  their  countrymen  no  new  fangled  for- 
eign religion,  but  one  which  has  been  tried  and  tested 
for  many  centuries.  It  has  carried  them  through  bitter 
persecution,  and  today  it  means  more  to  them  than 
ever  before.  I  shall  never  forget  the  look  of  high 
determination  on  the  fine  face  of  young  Bishop  Abra- 
ham when  he  said  to  me,  "Our  church  has  a  mission 
to  all  of  India,  and  we  must  carry  it  out." 

But  the  Mar  Thoma  Church  furnishes  only  a  small 
part  of  India's  five  million  Christians.  Many  others 
are  actively  at  work  bringing  Christ  into  India's  new 
life.  The  Church  of  England  has  a  membership  of 
almost  300,000  in  India.  From  one  of  its  "mass 
movement  areas"  have  come  hundreds  of  Christian 
workers,  among  them  the  Bishop  of  Dornakal,  the  first 
Indian  Bishop  and  an  outstanding  leader. 

The  "South  India  United  Church"  is  a  union  of 
Congregational,  Presbyterian,  and  Lutheran  churches 
of  several  missions.  Each  had  to  sacrifice  something 
of  its  own  in  order  that  they  could  all  agree  to  unite. 


CHRISTIANS    WHO    COUNT  161 

The  result  is  a  great  church,  great  in  numbers,  with 
about  200,000  members,  and  great  in  spirit.  Their 
coming  together  gave  all  its  members  new  heart.  They 
said,  "2sTow  that  we  are  united  we  must  together  start 
a  great  evangelistic  campaign."  And  they  did.  They 
took  as  their  motto  "Each  one  teach  one  and  each  one 
reach  one."  Of  course  not  everyone  carried  out  the 
motto,  but  many,  including  ignorant  village  Chris- 
tians, did  go  out  and  did  win  others.  In  some  places 
they  started  new  mass  movements.  In  one  mission 
they  added  a  third  to  their  church  membership  in  ten 
months.  Sherwood  Eddy  tells  of  one  village  congrega- 
tion which  through  its  own  efforts  added  to  its  mem- 
bership in  a  single  Sunday  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
three  men  and  women  from  fourteen  different  castes. 

Indian  Christians  of  many  denominations  are  con- 
ducting the  large  and  successful  National  Missionary 
Society  which  maintains  six  missions  in  different  parts 
of  India. 

One  of  the  reasons  for  the  new  enthusiasm  of  the 
Indian  Church  is  the  rapid  development  of  beautiful 
Indian  hymns.  Indians  love  music.  The  men  sing  as 
they  drive  their  bullock  carts,  and  the  women  sing  as 
they  grind  the  grain.  You  might  not  think  there  was 
much  music  in  the  strange  quavers  of  their  singing,  but 
it  grips  them  as  our  music  never  does.  It  is  now  be- 
coming not  an  uncommon  sight  to  see  Indian  Christians, 
who  have  been  working  all  day  out  in  the  fields,  gather 
in  the  evening  at  their  rest-house  with  their  queer 
drums  and  cymbals  as  accompaniment  and  sing  hymns 
for  hours  together.  The  Christians  of  India  are  be- 
ginning to  go  to  their  great  gatherings  as  the  Hindus 


162  INDIA   ON    THE    MARCH 

go  on  pilgrimage.  They  sing  as  they  pass  through  the 
villages  on  the  road  and  thus  carry  far  and  wide  the 
Christian  message.  I  saw  one  group  who  in  this  way 
tramped  with  their  flags  over  their  shoulders  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles,  much  of  it  through  strange  coun- 
try, in  order  to  attend  a  big  celebration.  All  over  India 
we  are  beginning  to  have  an  Indian  Church  which  ex- 
presses its  Christianity  in  warm,  rich  Oriental  ways. 

India  has  produced  many  wonderful  Christian  lead- 
ers. ISTone  are  more  wonderful  than  Pandita  Ramabai, 
the  remarkable  Brahman  widow,  who  became  the  great- 
est friend  of  Indian  fallen  women  and  won  hundreds 
of  them  to  a  better  life  in  her  great  Christian  institu- 
tion. There  have  been  men  in  the  Christian  Church 
who  have  taken  high  positions  in  the  life  of  the  country 
— men  like  the  fine  Indian  Rajah,  Sir  Harnam  Singh, 
and  the  great  political  leader,  Kali  Charan  Bannerjea. 
I  have  selected  three  typical  Christian  leaders  of  India 
to  whom  I  want  especially  to  introduce  you. 

The  first  is  my  former  neighbor  and  friend,  the  late 
Narayan  Vaman  Tilak.  Tilak  was  a  Brahman  of  bril- 
liant ability.  One  could  guess  his  genius  from  his 
remarkable,  long,  dome-like  head.  He  seemed  almost 
Western  in  his  quick,  impetuous  movements.  And  in- 
deed he  was  frank  to  say  that  he  thought  India  must 
learn  much  from  the  "West.  Yet  one  outstanding  fact 
about  him  was  his  love  for  his  country.  As  a  boy  it 
surged  up  in  him  as  a  great  impulse,  and  in  later  life 
he  wrote,  "I  don't  think  I  have  loved  my  own  parents, 
wife,  children,  friends,  even  myself,  as  much  as  I  love 
my  country." 


CHRISTIANS    WHO    COUNT  163 

He  was  a  boy  in  his  later  teens  when  a  friend's 
sister  lost  her  husband.  She  was  only  a  young  girl 
and  had  scarcely  seen  this  husband,  for  they  had  been 
married  as  small  children  and  had  never  lived  together ; 
yet  by  Indian  custom,  this  girl  was  to  be  condemned 
for  the  rest  of  her  days  to  the  dreary  life  of  an  Indian 
widow.  Tilak  saw  clearly  that  the  custom  of  child- 
marriage  and  the  dooming  of  innocent  girl  widows  to 
a  life-long  agony  was  a  great  wrong.  It  was  one  of 
the  customs  that  had  to  be  abolished  if  his  country 
was  to  become  great.  So  he  quietly  offered  to  marry 
this  girl  widow.  Thus  would  he  strike  a  blow  for 
the  good  of  his  country.  Well  he  knew  that  he  would 
be  bitterly  persecuted  and  thrown  out  of  his  home  if 
he  did  such  a  thing,  but  he  had  an  eager  boldness  in 
reform  that  almost  welcomed  suffering.  In  this  case, 
the  girl  herself  refused  to  consider  such  a  break  from 
custom;  but  in  his  offer,  young  Tilak  had  shown  his 
character. 

He  early  saw  that  the  caste  system  must  be  reformed 
and  that  the  reformation  must  begin  with  religion  since 
caste  and  other  evils  were  rooted  in  Hinduism.  Because 
Hinduism  did  not  seem  to  Tilak  to  furnish  a  possible 
basis  for  national  union,  he  set  out  to  found  a  new 
religion  which  might  save  India.  In  this  religion  the 
brotherhood  of  man  was  to  have  a  place  beside  the 
Fatherhood  of  God.  As  he  was  working  out  this  plan, 
he  chanced  to  meet  a  European  on  a  railroad  journey. 
They  talked  of  religion,  and  this  unknown  man  finally 
said  to  Tilak  something  like  this:  "The  religion  which 
you  want  for  India  is  the  very  one  which  Jesus  taught 
nineteen  hundred  years  ago.  Here  is  a  New  Testa- 


164  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

merit.  Will  you  read  it  ?"  Tilak  laughingly  promised 
to  do  so,  thinking  little  of  the  matter.  But  when  he 
began  to  read,  he  "became  deeply  interested.  Later  he 
told  what  the  result  was  when  he  came  to  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount.  We  are  so  used  to  Christ's  teaching 
that  for  us  it  often  loses  its  heauty  and  becomes  almost 
commonplace.  To  Tilak  it  came  with  the  freshness  of 
a  great  revelation.  He  said :  "I  could  not  tear  myself 
away  from  those  sentences,  so  full  of  charm  and  beauty, 
which  express  the  love  and  tenderness  and  truth  which 
the  sermon  conveys.  In  those  three  chapters  I  found 
answers  to  the  most  abstruse  problems  of  Hindu  philos- 
ophy. It  amazed  me  to  see  how  here  the  most  pro- 
found problems  were  completely  solved.  I  went  on 
eagerly  reading  to  the  last  page  of  the  Bible  that  I 
might  learn  more  of  Christ."  It  was  not  long  before 
Christ  had  completely  won  him. 

Tilak  had  already  earned  a  reputation  as  a  great 
speaker  and  a  writer  of  beautiful  prose  and  verse. 
He  began  to  express  his  Christian  faith  in  his  writings. 
Although  he  used  an  assumed  name,  his  friends  recog- 
nized his  style,  and  persecution  began.  He  lost  his 
position  and  was  reduced  to  want,  but  his  answer  to 
all  this  was  to  take  the  final  step  of  baptism.  This 
brought  even  fiercer  persecution.  His  wife  took  their 
baby  boy  and  left  him.  His  life  was  threatened.  He 
was  a  man  of  very  great  affection  and  was  terribly 
lonely  far  from  his  friends  and  without  his  family; 
yet  his  very  loneliness  drove  him  to  love  Christ  more 
and  to  find  his  joy  more  completely  in  Christ's  fellow- 
ship. 

He  began  to  write  Marathi  hymns,  so  beautiful  in 


CHRISTIANS    WHO    COUNT  165 

their  language  that  educated  Brahmans  were  eager  to 
read  them,  and  so  full  of  the  spirit  of  devotion  that 
they  brought  inspiration  even  to  the  uneducated  vil- 
lagers. Tilak  had  the  wonderful  art  of  taking  popular 
Indian  tunes  and  of  writing  for  them  hymns  that 
sang  themselves  right  into  the  heart  of  the  people. 
One  day  he  saw  a  little  group  of  my  Training  School 
boys  sitting  under  a  tree  and  singing  a  popular  song 
whose  words  were  filthy,  as  the  words  of  too  many  of 
India's  popular  songs  are.  Tilak's  heart  grew  hot 
within  him.  These  boys  were  being  trained  to  bring 
the  pure  spirit  of  Christ  into  Indian  life,  yet  here  they 
were  poisoning  their  thoughts  with  such  a  song!  He 
rushed  to  his  house  and  under  the  pressure  of  strong 
feeling  wrote  off  to  that  same  tune  a  Christian  hymn. 
Then  he  hurried  back,  found  the  boys  still  sitting  under 
the  tree  and  taught  them  the  new  hymn.  The  boys 
took  it  up  with  enthusiasm.  It  was  so  attractive  that 
soon  it  was  being  sung  all  over  Western  India.  It  is 
today  one  of  the  most  inspiring  hymns  in  the  Marathi 
language.  Some  years  afterwards  Tilak  asked  a  Brah- 
man friend  if  he  remembered  the  original  words  to 
that  tune.  The  Brahman  thought  a  moment  and  an- 
swered, "The  only  words  I  know  are  those  of  your 
beautiful  hymn." 

After  a  time  Mrs.  Tilak  consented  to  come  to  Ahmed- 
nagar  to  join  her  husband  on  condition  that  she  might 
"keep  caste"  and  should  not  be  compelled  to  give  up 
her  Hindu  faith.  She  was  surprised  and  disarmed  by 
the  friendliness  of  the  Christians  about  her.  She  says 
that  what  first  made  her  think  seriously  of  Christianity 
was  the  way  the  Christian  boys  played  with  her  boy. 


166  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

They  were  not  always  quarreling  and  abusing  each 
other,  but  played  happily  together.  She  said  to  her- 
self, "Here  is  a  religion  that  makes  even  the  boys  play 
more  happily.  I  would  like  to  have  my  boy  grow 
up  in  such  a  religion."  And  so,  gradually,  she  herself 
yielded  to  Christian  influence  and  became  a  true  Chris- 
tian. 

I  cannot  begin  to  tell  you  of  all  Mr.  Tilak's  services 
to  India.  He  wanted  to  see  a  truly  Indian  Christianity 
and  so  helped  to  establish  church  festivals  similar  to 
those  the  people  knew  and  loved.  The  reason  our  Chris- 
tians are  ready  to  sing  hymns  for  hours  together  and  to 
walk  many  miles  to  attend  Christian  meetings  is  because 
they  have  Tilak's  wonderful  marching  songs  and  hymns 
to  sing  on  the  way.  His  home  was  ever  open  to  high- 
caste  inquirers,  and  a  goodly  number  of  them  became 
Christians  after  living  with  him.  He  edited  a  Chris- 
tian newspaper.  He  inspired  class  after  class  of  men 
who  were  going  out  to  become  Christian  leaders.  He 
taught  Indian  patriots  that  Christianity  was  not  a 
"foreign  religion,  but  a  God-given  way  to  save  India." 

Non-Christian  leaders  wanted  him  to  become  editor 
of  a  great  patriotic  paper.  There  was  only  one  con- 
dition— Christianity  must  not  be  mentioned.  He  was 
greatly  attracted  by  this  opportunity,  but  said:  "!No, 
I  cannot  do  it.  I  must  be  free  to  write  about  the  re- 
ligion which  seems  to  me  the  hope  of  our  Motherland." 

Tilak  raised  the  Christian  Church  of  India  to  a 
higher  level  and  gave  it  a  warmer  life  and  a  richer 
message.  His  greatest  service  was  through  his  beauti- 
ful hymns.  "No  translation  of  his  poetry  does  it  justice. 
It  is  the  response  of  the  heart  of  India  to  her  Christ. 


CHRISTIANS    WHO    COUNT  167 

The  next  man  to  whom  I  want  to  introduce  you  is 
also  a  neighbor  and  friend  of  mine,  but  different  in 
almost  every  way  from  Tilak,  the  high-born  patriot 
and  poet.  His  name  is  Rambhau  and  he  is  a  neighbor 
because  his  village  of  Khandala  *  is  only  eight  miles 
from  Ahmednagar.  He  often  dropped  in  to  see  me, 
and  I  frequently  went  out  to  see  him.  Rambhau  was 
nothing  but  a  simple  village  Christian,  rugged  of  body, 
but  with  a  serious  impediment  in  his  speech  and  know- 
ing little  beyond  his  neighborhood.  His  modest  little 
home  was  right  in  the  middle  of  the  maharwada,  or 
outcaste  quarter.  It  was  in  such  degrading  surround- 
ings that  he  had  grown  up.  As  a  boy,  he  had  attended 
the  village  school;  occasionally  a  native  pastor  or  a 
missionary  had  held  a  religious  service  among  his 
people;  beyond  this,  few  of  the  higher  influences  had 
touched  his  life.  Yet,  somehow,  this  sturdy  villager 
was  not  like  the  people  around  him. 

Perhaps  it  was  partly  because  a  great  sorrow  had 
come  into  his  life.  Although  he  and  his  wife  were  a 
little  more  comfortably  off  than  most  in  the  outcaste 
quarter  and  could  have  given  children  a  better  chance, 
no  children  had  come  to  bless  their  home  and  carry 
on  their  name.  They  were  heart-broken,  but  they 
talked  it  over  and  decided  that  they  would  adopt  a 
child.  Their  choice  was  strange  and  novel;  they  took 
as  their  adopted  child  nothing  less  than  the  Khandala 
Church.  It  was  a  very  unattractive  little  church,  with 
no  enthusiasm  and  no  warmth  of  life.  In  fact  it  was 
almost  dead.  Yet  in  his  steady,  common-sense  way 
Rambhau  started  to  nurse  it  to  life  again.  First,  he 

i  Khun-da-la. 


168  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

set  about  to  see  that  the  little  Christian  school  should 
be  made  a  success.  The  teacher  was  rather  careless 
and  lazy,  and  the  school  had  run  down  so  far  that 
we  were  talking  of  closing  it.  Rambhau  encouraged 
the  teacher  by  bringing  in  pupils.  He  also,  in  a  kindly 
way,  kept  him  up  to  the  mark.  There  was  a  demand 
for  a  night  school,  but  they  had  no  clock  and  no  lamp. 
A  day  school  could  go  by  the  sun,  but  a  night  school 
needed  a  clock.  Rambhau,  out  of  his  limited  funds, 
secured  both  lamp  and  clock  and  got  the  night  school 
under  way.  The  teacher  became  ill,  and  it  was  this 
simple  villager  who  nursed  him  and  saw  that  his  fam- 
ily was  kept  from  all  want  during  his  sickness. 

Next,  he  started  what  was  for  him  a  large  project — 
nothing  less  than  to  get  for  his  village  a  worthy  build- 
ing which  they  could  use  for  a  church.  He  induced 
all  the  Christians  of  Khandala  to  give  a  few  days' 
work  in  the  off  season.  Rambhau  himself  gave  all  his 
time  and  whatever  money  was  needed  for  the  work 
until  the  foundations  were  all  laid  and  the  mud  walls 
built.  Then  he  came  to  me  and  said:  "Sahib,  we 
need  a  church  building  in  Khandala.  We  have  built 
the  walls,  but  we  haven't  money  enough  to  build  the 
roof.  Can  you  help  us?"  I  helped  him  to  secure 
a  small  sum,  and  he  went  off  triumphant.  By  shrewd 
buying  and  careful  work,  he  put  a  thoroughly  good 
roof  on  the  little  "church,"  as  he  lovingly  called  the 
Indian  structure. 

To  the  dedication  he  invited  people  from  all  the 
region,  and  when  they  knew  that  he  was  planning  to 
give  them  a  simple  feast,  you  may  be  sure  that  they 
hastened  to  accept.  Bands  of  Christians  came  from  far 


CHRISTIANS    WHO    COUNT 

and  near.  As  each  band  approached,  some  of  the  Khan- 
dala  Christians  went  out  to  meet  it,  singing  and  sway- 
ing their  bodies  in  time  with  the  music.  Then,  all 
together,  they  came  back,  singing  as  they  came.  Of 
course  there  were  speeches.  Altogether  it  was  a  mem- 
orable and  inspiring  occasion  in  the  little  village  and 
in  all  the  region.  In  fact  it  resulted  in  the  opening  of 
Christian  work  in  two  other  villages. 

By  this  time  Rambhau's  child  was  very  much  alive, 
but  the  dedication  had  shown  him  one  great  blemish. 
The  Khandala  Church  had  no  singing-band  with  instru- 
ments, such  as  some  of  the  other  village  churches  had. 
So  Rambhau  went  to  work.  First,  he  collected  a  very 
respectable  sum  from  the  poor  Khandala  Christians. 
Then  he  trudged  in  to  see  me  to  talk  the  matter  over. 
Gladly  I  made  up  the  little  amount  he  still  needed, 
and  he  went  back  to  Khandala  with  a  set  of  native 
instruments.  He  himself  could  not  sing,  but  soon 
he  invited  me  to  an  evening  service,  when  I  was  filled 
with  wonder.  Those  unlettered  villagers,  in  a  few 
weeks,  had  learned  perhaps  thirty  of  Mr.  Tilak's  in- 
spiring hymns.  After  a  hard  day  of  work  in  the  fields, 
they  came  to  the  little  church  and  sang  and  sang  and 
sang  for  hours  until  I  myself  had  to  go  home. 

But  Rambhau's  child  was  by  no  means  grown  up 
yet.  It  needed  constant  care,  as  every  healthy  young- 
ster does.  One  day  when  I  was  in  Khandala,  I  was 
surprised  to  see  a  man  in  the  most  advanced  stage  of 
leprosy  huddled  in  a  corner  of  the  church. 

"Who  is  that  ?"  I  asked. 

Rambhau  replied,  "That  is  Bapu,  a  Christian  of 
Khandala.  He  has  been  in  a  leper  asylum,  but  be- 


170  INDIA    ON    THE    MAEOH 

came  lonesome  for  his  village  and  so  has  crawled  here 
and  is  living  in  the  church." 

"But  he  ought  not  to  live  there,"  I  said,  and  Rambhau 
agreed  with  me. 

Some  weeks  later  he  came  to  see  me.  "Sahib,  do 
you  remember  Bapu,  the  leper?" 

"Yes,"  I  said.     "Where  is  he  now?" 

"He  is  living  in  a  hut  I  built  for  him.  I  take  him 
his  meals  every  day.  My  wife  threatens  to  leave  me 
because  I  am  going  to  a  leper,  and  she  is  afraid  that 
I  will  bring  the  disease  home,  but  what  can  I  do  ?  Some- 
body must  take  care  of  Bapu." 

"You  are  doing  just  the  right  thing,  Rambhau,"  I 
said. 

"But,"  he  continued,  "now  Bapu  wants  to  go  back 
to  the  leper  asylum  where  he  can  have  regular  care, 
and  I  don't  know  what  to  do  about  it." 

"I'll  pay  his  fare,"  I  said,  "but  it  would  be  hard 
for  me  to  leave  my  work  to  take  him." 

Rambhau  was  silent  for  some  time,  then  he  looked 
up  and  said  quietly,  "I'll  take  him,"  and  he  did. 

I  ordered  a  special  railroad  compartment,  for  of 
course  Bapu  could  not  be  allowed  to  travel  with  others 
in  a  regular  car.  He  was  almost  helpless  now,  and  with 
all  his  loathsome  disease,  Rambhau  had  to  lift  him  into 
the  cart  that  brought  him  from  Khandala  to  Ahmed- 
nagar  and  into  the  compartment  in  which  those  two 
were  to  travel  for  hours  together.  As  I  waved  them  off 
at  the  station,  I  was  awed  at  the  quiet  Christian  hero- 
ism of  this  uneducated  villager.  Any  man,  however 
brave,  might  well  shrink  from  such  a  journey  with  such 
a  companion,  but  Rambhau  carried  it  through.  People 


CHEISTIANS    WHO    COUNT  171 

refused  them  water.  No  cartman  could  at  first  be  in- 
duced to  take  them  from  the  train  to  the  asylum,  but 
by  patience  and  persistence  he  succeeded  in  getting 
this  poor  leper  to  the  shelter  where  he  might  end  his 
days  in  whatever  of  comfort  was  possible. 

Again  some  weeks  later  Rambhau  came  to  Ahmed- 
nagar.  "I  am  off  to  see  Bapu,"  he  said.  "Before  I 
left  him  at  the  asylum,  he  made  me  promise  to  come 
back  to  visit  him." 

He  saw  the  surprise  in  my  face,  and  his  own  lighted 
up  when  he  added,  "You  see,  I  cannot  desert  him.  He 
is  my  Christian  brother." 

And  so  this  son  of  an  Indian  outcaste  quietly  set 
out  on  a  long  and  expensive  journey  to  visit  Bapu,  the 
repulsive  leper,  because  he  was  his  Christian  brother! 
And  I,  for  one,  am  sure  that,  when  the  King  shall 
come  in  his  glory  and  all  the  angels  with  him,  among 
the  first  to  whom  he  will  say,  "Come,  thou  blessed  of 
my  father,"  will  be  Rambhau,  the  village  Christian  of 
Khandala  who  adopted  the  Church  as  his  child. 

Of  all  the  people  of  India,  the  Sikh  of  the  Punjab 
is  the  most  striking  in  appearance.  Tall,  straight,  light- 
complexioned,  with  his  carefully  trained  black  beard 
and  his  high  turban,  the  typical  Sikh  is  every  inch  a 
soldier  and  a  gentleman.  The  Sikh  sect  grew  out 
of  a  religious  reform,  but  persecution  soon  welded  its 
members  into  a  powerful  fighting  machine.  For  many 
generations,  by  instinct  and  tradition,  they  have  been 
fighters.  Sundar  Singh,2  the  next  Indian  Christian 
friend  whom  we  are  to  meet,  was  born  in  a  Sikh  home 

2Soonder  Singh. 

t 


172  INDIA    ON    THE    MAECH 

of  wealth.  Many  of  his  relatives  were  soldiers. 
"Singh"  is  a  common  Sikh  name  meaning  "Lion." 
Sundar  Singh  has  carried  into  his  Christian  life  the 
fearlessness  of  a  lion,  but  none  of  his  fierceness. 

From  his  mother,  Sundar  inherited  the  deepest  re- 
ligious instincts  and  longings  of  India.  She  was  his 
earliest  teacher  and  led  him  to  regard  the  life  of  the 
sadhu,  or  saint,  as  his  highest  ambition.  He  playfully 
says  of  himself,  "I  was  not  a  Sikh  (pronounced  seek}, 
but  a  seeker-after-truth."  When  he  was  only  fourteen 
years  old,  he  suffered  an  overwhelming  loss  in  the  death 
of  his  mother.  This  drove  him  to  be  even  more  eager 
in  his  search  for  truth.  He  learned  by  heart  the 
Bhagavad  Gita*  the  most  beautiful  Hindu  religious 
book.  He  read  the  Sikh  Oranth  4  and  the  Mohamme- 
dan Koran,  but  in  none  of  them  did  he  find  the  peace  he 
sought,  and  no  Indian  religious  leaders  could  seem  to 
help  him. 

As  a  little  boy  he  had  come  to  know  something  about 
the  Bible  because  he  had  gone  to  the  Christian  school 
in  his  home  village;  but  he  had  turned  against  Chris- 
tianity as  a  religion  which  was  contrary  to  the  religion 
of  his  fathers  and  had  refused  to  remain  in  the  Chris- 
tian school.  Of  his  attitude  when  he  was  sixteen  years 
old  he  says :  "When  I  was  out  in  any  town  I  got  people 
to  throw  stones  at  Christian  preachers.  ...  In  the 
presence  of  my  father  I  cut  up  the  Bible  and  other 
Christian  books  and  put  kerosene  oil  upon  them  and 
burnt  them.  I  thought  this  was  a  false  religion  and 
tried  all  I  could  to  destroy  it.  I  was  faithful  to  my 
8Bhag-g&-v5d  Gee-tfi.  *Grunth. 


CHRISTIANS    WHO    COUNT  173 

own  religion,  but  I  could  not  get  any  satisfaction  or 
peace."  5 

But  the  message  of  the  Bible  and  of  the  Christian 
preachers  had  made  a  deeper  impression  on  him  than 
he  knew.  One  day  in  the  very  midst  of  his  hatred, 
Christ  called  him  as  he  had  called  Paul.  This  is  his 
story  of  what  happened : 

I  woke  up  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  had  my 
usual  bath,  and  prayed,  "0  God,  if  there  is  a  God,  wilt 
thou  show  me  the  right  way,  or  I  will  kill  myself."  My 
intention  was  that,  if  I  got  no  satisfaction,  I  would  place 
my  head  upon  the  railway  line  when  the  five  o'clock  train 
passed  by  and  kill  myself.  If  I  got  no  satisfaction  in  this 
life,  I  thought  I  would  get  it  in  the  next.  I  was  praying  and 
praying,  but  got  no  answer ;  and  I  prayed  for  half  an  hour 
longer,  hoping  to  get  peace.  At  4:30  a.  m.  I  saw  some- 
thing of  which  I  had  no  idea  at  all  previously.  In  the 
room  where  I  was  praying,  I  saw  a  great  light.  I  thought 
the  place  was  on  fire.  I  looked  round,  but  could  find 
nothing.  Then  the  thought  came  to  me  that  this  might  be 
an  answer  that  God  had  sent  me.  Then  as  I  prayed  and 
looked  into  the  light,  I  saw  the  form  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  It  had  such  an  appearance  of  glory  and  love.  If 
it  had  been  some  Hindu  incarnation  I  would  have  pros- 
trated myself  before  it.  But  it  was  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
whom  I  had  been  insulting  a  few  days  before.  I  felt  that 
a  vision  like  this  could  not  come  out  of  my  own  imagina- 
tion. I  heard  a  voice  saying  in  Hindustani,  "How  long 
will  you  persecute  me  ?  I  have  come  to  save  you ;  you  were 
praying  to  know  the  right  way.  Why  do  you  not  take  it  ?" 
So  I  fell  at  His  feet  and  got  this  wonderful  Peace  which  I 
could  not  get  anywhere  else.  This  is  the  joy  I  was  wishing 
to  get.  .  .  .  When  I  got  up,  the  vision  had  all  disappeared ; 

5  For  this  and  the  following  quotations,  see  Streeter,  The  Mes- 
sage of  Sadhu  Sundar  Singh,  pp.  6-10. 


INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

but  although  the  vision  disappeared,  the  Peace  and  Joy 
have  remained  with  me  ever  since.  I  went  off  and  told 
my  father  that  I  had  become  a  Christian.  He  told  me, 
"Go  and  lie  down  and  sleep;  why,  only  the  day  before 
yesterday  you  burnt  the  Bible ;  and  you  say  you  are  a  Chris- 
tian now!"  I  said,  "Well,  I  have  discovered  now  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  alive  and  have  determined  to  be  His  fol- 
lower. Today  I  am  His  disciple,  and  I  am  going  to  serve 
Him/' 

Sundar's  family  used  every  influence  in  their  power 
to  turn  the  boy  from  Christianity.  They  offered  him 
wealth.  They  appealed  to  him  not  to  disgrace  the  fam- 
ily name.  They  threatened  him.  They  persecuted 
him.  Finally,  when  all  their  efforts  had  failed,  they 
disowned  him  and  ordered  him  to  leave  home.  Some 
of  them  even  gave  him  poisoned  food  for  the  journey. 
He  was  only  a  boy  and  the  first  night  after  he  was 
sent  away  from  home  he  spent  alone,  shivering  under 
a  tree.  In  telling  about  this  night  he  says:  "I  began 
to  think:  'Yesterday  and  before  that  I  used  to  live 
in  the  midst  of  luxury  at  my  home;  but  now  I  am 
shivering  here,  and  hungry  and  thirsty  and  without 
shelter,  with  no  warm  clothes  and  no  food.'  I  had  to 
spend  the  whole  night  under  the  tree.  But  I  remember 
the  wonderful  joy  and  peace  in  my  heart,  the  presence 
of  my  Savior.  I  held  my  New  Testament  in  my  hand. 
I  remember  that  night  as  my  first  night  in  heaven." 

Sundar  was  soon  baptised  and,  boy  though  he  was, 
he  set  out  on  his  life  as  a  Christian  sadhu.  This  meant 
that  he  donned  a  saffron  robe  like  that  worn  by  the 
Hindu  holy  men  and  went  about  among  the  villages 


CHRISTIANS   WHO    COUNT  175 

of  India  preaching  and  teaching.  He  took  no  money 
and  no  possessions  save  his  Bible.  When  people  re- 
ceived him,  he  accepted  their  hospitality.  Where  they 
rejected  him,  he  went  hungry  away,  to  sleep  under 
some  tree.  At  first  he  worked  mainly  in  the  villages 
of  the  Punjab,  but  after  a  time  he  felt  called  to  do 
what  he  could  to  reach  the  hermit  nation  of  Tibet. 
Tibet  had  practically  no  Christian  missionaries.  It 
was  protected  in  part  by  its  mighty  mountain  ramparts, 
but  more  by  the  fanaticism  of  its  people.  Sundar 
thought  that  an  Indian  sadhu  might  find  entrance  where 
a  white-faced  missionary  could  not,  and  in  this  he  was 
right. 

Once  when  he  was  working  in  a  particularly  bigoted 
village,  he  went  at  night  into  a  cave  in  the  near-by 
forest.  In  the  morning  he  awoke  to  find  a  leopard 
sleeping  near  him.  At  another  time,  the  head  Lama 
of  a  Tibetan  town  seized  him  and  threw  him  into  a 
well  full  of  the  bones  and  decaying  flesh  of  other  vic- 
tims. Here  Sundar  expected  to  die.  After  he  had 
been  there  for  days,  he  heard  something  grating  over- 
head, and  the  cover  of  the  well  was  lifted.  A  rope  was 
let  down  and  he  was  pulled  out  of  the  well ;  but  before 
he  could  look  around,  his  deliverer  had  disappeared. 
This  wonderful  rescue,  Sundar  Singh  himself  believes 
to  have  been  wrought  by  no  other  than  the  Master  in 
person. 

However  this  may  be,  it  is  certain  that  the  beautiful 
spirit  in  which  Sundar  Singh  takes  persecution  is  no 
small  part  of  his  power.  An  educated  gentleman  of 
the  Forest  Department  who  belonged  to  the  Arya 
Samaj,  which  is  bitterly  hostile  to  Christianity,  tells 


176  INDIA    ON    THE    MARCH 

of  seeing  Sundar  come  to  a  mountain  village  and  be- 
gin preaching  the  love  of  Christ.  Some  of  the  hearers 
became  angry,  and  one  rose  and  dealt  the  Sadhu  a 
blow  which  knocked  him  from  his  seat  and  cut  his 
head  and  hand  badly.  Sundar  rose,  bound  up  his  hand, 
and  with  the  blood  running  down  his  face,  asked  God's 
blessing  on  his  persecutors.  This  act  of  his,  not  only 
won  the  man  who  dealt  the  blow,  but  also  the  gentle- 
man who  described  the  scene.6  It  is  one  of  the  crown- 
ing joys  of  Sundar  Singh's  life  that  his  old  father  has 
at  last  become  a  Christian. 

Soon  the  fame  of  this  young  Christian  saint  went 
out  over  the  land,  and  he  received  invitations  from 
far  and  near.  He  traveled  all  over  India.  Great  crowds 
of  people  thronged  to  hear  him  wherever  he  went. 
Christians,  young  and  old,  drank  in  his  words  with 
such  eagerness  as  they  had  never  before  shown. 

And  probably  no  one  has  done  so  much  to  win  non- 
Christians  to  Christ  as  Sundar  Singh.  They  see  in 
him  a  true  Indian  holy  man,  yet  they  realize  that  in 
him  there  is  something  higher,  something  better  than 
they  ever  saw  in  the  Hindu  devotees.  There  is  a  new 
note  of  victory  and  of  joy  in  his  message.  There  is 
a  sweetness  and  love  in  the  way  he  gives  himself  to 
his  service  which  are  unique  and  well-nigh  irresistible. 
In  a  word,  he  is  a  true  follower  of  Christ.  Hindus  and 
Christians  alike  see  that  God's  Spirit  is  in  him. 

As  his  fame  grew,  Sundar  Singh  was  invited  to  go 

to  China  and  Japan.     These  lands  have  ever  looked 

to   India  for  religious   inspiration,    and   they  turned 

eagerly  to  this  simple-hearted  disciple.    Here  also  great 

«  Zahir,  A  Lover  of  the  Cross,  p.  14. 


CHEISTIANS    WHO    COUNT  177 

throngs  came  to  him  and  gained  inspiration,  even  as 
they  had  done  in  India. 

In  the  spring  of  1921  the  call  came  to  Sundar  Singh 
to  bring  his  message  to  England  and  to  America,  and 
he  accepted.  It  was  a  wonderful  experience  for  our 
practical,  workaday,  Western  Christians  to  meet  such 
a  man.  In  his  turban  and  his  saffron  robe,  his  feet 
clad  in  Indian  sandals,  with  his  spare,  erect  figure,  and 
his  face  filled  with  divine  light,  he  almost  seems  to 
be  an  incarnation  of  the  Master  Himself.  Indeed  few 
men  in  all  Christian  history  have  so  literally  followed 
in  the  footsteps  of  our  Master  as  Sundar  Singh  has 
done.  I  saw  him  at  Silver  Bay  with  American  college 
students  standing  about  eagerly  asking  him  questions 
which  he  was  answering  out  of  the  richness  of  his  Chris- 
tian experience.  It  reminded  me  of  the  time,  shortly 
before,  when  I  had  seen  him  in  Madura  surrounded  by 
a  similar  group  of  Indian  students.  Those  who  meet 
him  recognize  that  this  Indian  Christian  has  a  message 
of  joy  and  inspiration  not  only  for  India,  and  not  only 
for  China  and  Japan,  but  also  for  England  and  America. 

In  Sundar  Singh  the  spirit  of  India  speaks — the 
spirit  of  India  transfigured  by  the  spirit  of  Christ. 
This  spirit  says:  "We  too  have  our  gifts  to  bring  to 
the  feet  of  our  common  Master.  Send  us  your  Chris- 
tian missionaries  to  work  with  us  in  breaking  the 
shackles  of  our  past.  We  also  will  work  with  you  in 
breaking  your  shackles.  You  and  we  together, — the 
great  West  and  the  great  East, — shall  unite  in  the 
world-wide  fellowship  of  Christ." 


A  Brief  Reading  List 

Conditions  in  India  have  changed  so  rapidly  in  recent  years 
that  the  following  list  has  been  limited  for  the  most  part  to  books 
that  have  appeared  within  the  last  decade.  The  prices  quoted 
are  subject  to  change.  If  one  were  limited  to  six  supplementary 
books  on  India,  the  six  that  are  starred  (*)  might  well  be 
chosen,  considering  both  cost  and  range.  Readers  should  obtain 
from  their  mission  boards  all  denominational  literature  on  India 
available. 

History  and  Politics 

*India  Old  and  New.    SIB  VALENTINE  CHIBOL.    1921.    Macmillan 

Co.,  New  York.    $4.00. 
India's  Nation  Builders.     D.  N.  BANNERJEA.     1920.     Brentano's, 

New  York.    $3.50. 
Oxford   History   of  India.     VINCENT  A.    SMITH.      1919.     Oxford 

University  Press,  New  York.     $6.25. 

Social   and   Economic 

India's  Silent  Revolution.     FRED  B.   FISHEB  and  GERTRUDE  M. 

WILLIAMS.     1919.     Macmillan  Co.,  New  York.     $1.50. 
Peoples  and  Problems  of  India.     SIR  THOMAS   W.  HOLDERNESS. 

1912.     Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  New  York.     50  cents. 
Social  Ideals  in  India.     WILLIAM  PATON.     1919.     United  Council 

for  Missionary  Education,  London.     Is.  3d. 

Education 

Character  Building  in  Kashmir.     C.  E.  TYNDALE-BISCOE.     1920. 

Church  Missionary  Society,  London.     3s. 
*8chools  with  a  Message  in  India.     DANIEL  JOHNSON  FLEMING. 

1921.     Oxford  University  Press,  New  York.     $2.40. 

Indian  Religions  and  Christianity 

*India   and  Its  Faiths:   A   Traveler's  Record.     JAMES   BISSETT 
PRATT.     1915.     Houghton  Mifflin  Co.,  Boston.     $4.00. 

Modern  Religious  Movements  in  India.     J.  N.  FARQUHAR.     1915. 
Macmillan  Co.,  New  York.    $2.50. 

Primer  of  Hinduism.    J.  N.  FABQUHAB.     1912.    Oxford  University 
Press,  New  York.     85  cents. 
178 


A   BRIEF   BEADING    LIST  179 

Christianity  in  India 

Among  the  Wild  Tribes  of  the  Afghan  Frontier.    T.  L.  PENNEUL. 

1909.     J.  B.  Lippincott  Co.,  Philadelphia.     $3.50. 
*Building  with  India.     DANIEL  JOHNSON  FLEMING.     1922.     Mis- 
sionary Education  Movement,  New  York.     75  cents. 
Goal  of  India,  The.     W.  E.  S.  HOLLAND.     1918.     United  Council 

for  Missionary  Education,  London.    5s. 
Gospel  and  the  Plow,  The.     SAM  HIGGINBOTTOM.     1921.     Mac- 

millan  Co.,  New  York.     $1.25. 
History  of  Missions  in  India.    JuLitrs  RICHTEB.     1908.    Fleming 

H.  Revell  Co.,  New  York.    $2.50. 
India  in  Conflict.     P.  N.  F.  YOUNG  and  AGNES  FEBBES.     1920. 

Macmillan  Co.,  New  York.    $1.40. 
Kashmir  in  Sunlight  and  Shade.    C.  E.  TTNDALE-BISCOE.     Seeley 

Service,  London.     1922.     12s.  6d. 
"Lighted  to  Lighten,"  The  Hope  of  India.    ALICE  B.  VANDOBEN. 

1922.     Central  Committee  on  the  United  Study  of  Foreign 

Missions,  West  Medford,  Mass.     75  cents. 
*Message  of  Sadhu  Sundar  Singh.     B.  H.  STBEETEB  and  A.  J. 

APASSAMY.     1921.     Macmillan  Co.,  New  York.     $1.75. 
*0utcastes'  Hope,  The:  or  Work  Among  the  Depressed  Classes  in 

India.    G.  E.  PHILLIPS.  1912.    United  Council  for  Missionary 

Education,  London.     2s. 
Pandita  Ramabai.     HELEN  S.  DYEB.     1911.     Fleming  H.  Revell 

Co.,  New  York.     $1.25. 

Prince  of  the  Church  in  India,  A.    J.  C.  R.  EWING.     1918.    Flem- 
ing H.  Revell  Co.,  New  York.    $1.00. 
Renaissance  in  India:  Its  Missionary  Aspect.     C.  F.  ANDBEWS. 

1912.      United    Council    for   Missionary   Education,    London. 

Is.  lOd. 
Twice-born  Men.    HABOLD  BEGBIE.    1910.    Fleming  H.  Revell  Co., 

New  York.    $1.25. 

Stories  about  India 

Eyes  of  Asia,  The.  RTTDYABD  KIPLING.  1918.  Doubleday,  Page 
&  Co.,  Garden  City,  New  York.  $1.00. 

Following  the  Equator.  MABK  TWAIN.  Harper  &  Brothers,  New 
York. 

India,  Beloved  of  Heaven.  BBENTON  THOBUBN  BADLEY  in  collabo- 
ration with  Oscar  MacMillan  Buck  and  James  Jay  Kingham, 
with  an  introduction  by  Bishop  W.  F.  Oldham.  The  Abing- 
don  Press,  150  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York.  $1.00. 

Kim.  RUDYABD  KIPLING..  1918.  Doubleday,  Page  &  Co.,  Garden 
City,  New  York.  $1.50. 


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